David and Goliath
by crazyrajat
Summary: Shirou finds himself in a world not his own under peculiar circumstances. With a power, he couldn't even begin to comprehend... with a life he couldn't make head and tails off. Everything has changed for him that is certain but his ideals... they remain same. Saving people was something he could never stop.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Have you ever wondered how desperate a man can get when he really wants something? How mad it can drive them when it is denied to them – repeatedly over the centuries. Again and again until their very spirit breaks. Until flesh slips off their bone like rotten meat. Until the things they once loved bring nothing but pain. Never to stop. Never to rest. Never to end.

 _One endless nightmare._

In the frozen Alps of Switzerland, one man questioned himself. Desperate enough to do something – which would remain in the realm of ambiguity till the day he took his very last breath. Did he make the right decision? Did he doom this world? Will his own arrogance lead to this world's undoing?

The man shook his head – now was not the time to second-guess himself. Cold air hit him in the face making him shiver. Time for that had long since passed.

He looked over the bubbling green water, and a hint of madness entered his otherwise lucid mind. All his fear and anxiety evaporated like dust in the wind.

Now was not the time for fear. His path was clear as day. Everything he had ever dreamed of hinged on this very moment. What he'll do today will shape history.

He took a deep breath. _Now was not the time_ _for_ _fear._

"Master, this feels wrong." One of his ever-faithful ninja spoke.

"Who am I to you?"

"M-master" the ninja replied.

"Is that a question or an assertion?" the master raised one of his eyebrows and the young ninja quailed under his gaze. "Everything you know has been taught by me – from the way you fight to the way you breathe, and now – after everything, you dare question me? So, I ask you again, who am I to you?"

The young ninja gulped and immediately kneeled in a position of utter subservience with his knees touching the dirt. His hands holding the ninjato unsheathed towards the form of his towering master. Like the knights of the old.

He refused to look his master in the eye – lest he see his shame.

"You are my master – the Immortal, the Great Ra's al Ghul." This time there was no hesitation. No questions. Only reverence.

Ra's old eyes roamed and he saw all of his ninjas kneeling before him. He turned around, showing his back to them. There was no need for acknowledgment or piety. His soldiers knew better. To ask for acceptance for the righteous cause was to doubt the cause.

"Then we shall proceed." Ra's said. Gently placing a small package wrapped in blood red blanket in the middle of the _Seal of Solomon_ _–_ the trans-dimensional hexagram. Christened in his own blood. The staple for any great ritual.

"Bring me the Magdelene Grimoire!" Ra's screamed, and in an instant, one of the ninjas brought the fabled artifact. His hands danced over the book, feeling every indent. Caressing, until he could etch everything in his memory.

For a moment Ra's al Ghul felt fear, he thought of the sheer boldness and insolence of his action. To control the very power which would even make the gods of old pause… to bind _that_ power. For a moment he hesitated. But only for a moment.

 _Now was not the time for fear._

With a swift moment, Ra's removed the blanket to reveal a baby with fresh pink flesh. The baby's eyes were closed. He didn't move. He didn't cry – he didn't do much of anything. He didn't even breathe.

"If only you had lived. If only you had breathed… my grandson" Ra's slurred, running his hands over the baby's belly. "Nevertheless, you will still do your duty to me, even death shall not stop you. I shall breathe life into your very being. No, I will make you better than you ever were. Better than you will ever be! You are fortuitous as the planets align themselves in a perfect line. They do it for the very first time since 561 BC."

Ra's looked at the starry sky and madness took over Ra's once again, "Let us begin!" He cried.

"I give a coin made of stone, I sing a melody stolen from dirt. I give you the knife which committed the first murder, and a stick which split the very oceans."

Ninjas looked around as the lights flickered. The ground cracked under the weight of an invisible oppressive power. Voices bounced the walls. Begging them to stop. Telling their master to stop. They told them that they were making a grave mistake – they didn't know who they were calling.

None of the ninjas moved because the time for that has long since passed.

"I give you my blood from my vein," Ra's continued making a long incision on his wrist as blood flowed freely. "I give you the blood of my blood and a feather pulled from an angel's wing." He made the same incision on the baby's hand.

The words tolled inside Ra's head. The Grimoire lifted itself into the air – every letter in it glowing a dirty purple. _He couldn't stop now. Not even if he wanted to…_ Ra's realized.

"I call you by names, by names of the Old Lord," Ra's intoned. "Beelzebub, Mephistopheles, Djinn, Dybbuk. Come! Come, as I open the gates! Come, as I open the way!"

A blinding light lit up the cavern like Sun. Vicious. Angry. Uncaring. Merciless. Like the wrath of God. But Ra's didn't turn away. He couldn't. He was so close now…

He heard the cry of his ninjas as they turned into embers under the light. However, he stood his ground even as his sight burned away.

"From the dark, they call you… into the dark, they call you. Come!"

The light intensified for one last time, as the Ra's al Ghul's face hit the dirt. Unconscious, from exhaustion.

And then the baby cried.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter - 1**

Two swords clashed, in a violent symphony. Sparks flew, the metal of the wakizashi strained under the pressure put by both opponents. The feminine figure glared daggers at the young boy while the boy gazed in disinterest.

This was not working, Jade realized. No matter what she did – she was not able to overpower this boy. And that's what her opponent was – A little boy. Maybe the same age as her little sister.

She couldn't see his face. Thanks, to the ninja get-up – but he had the most striking green eyes. Nothing like she had ever seen. They were shiny emerald fires. His physique, if it could be called that – was nimble but far from developed.

Clearly, the boy hadn't entered his puberty yet. Jade grunted as she blocked another heavy blow aimed at her ribs. Her arms almost gave out under the strength of his strikes. Not only he was stronger but he was far more skilled than her. It became apparent to her than ever.

So, this is what an heir to the 'Head of the Demon' looks like, Jade shuddered. Another precise blow to her sternum, and a spinning low kick and she found her back landing with a thud on the wooden floors of the dojo. They creaked under her weight.

Jade blinked, only to realize her own sword's blade was not even an inch from her jugular. Kissing it. Her opponent's knee dug into her stomach. She let out a wince and colored. _I didn't even see it,_ she thought.

It was all too quick. All her years of training under her father – loathsome as he was; and all she had to show for it was this! Being humiliated by a boy who still didn't have his pubes!

Jade dared to steal a glance at him. He was so still. His posture, his stance, his grip – all perfect. While she was struggling to take deep gulps of air. _At least pretend that this was difficult for you… pretend that I was a challenge._

For someone this cruel with his swordplay, he had beautiful eyes. Enchanting.

"Again!" Ra's shouted from the side.

Swords clashed – and Jade knew she wasn't going to win this bout either.

* * *

Ra's al Ghul listened as the pair exchanged sword once again. After the loss of his eyes, his men, and his vitality to the unmitigated disaster of a ritual he performed. That's all he could do. Listen.

He listened to everything. The swords cutting through the air. The exertion of muscles, the breath of the combatants – everything. Six centuries of martial arts experience – taken to its very limit. He no longer required his eyes to see what was going on around him.

Jade Nguyen. She was good, very good, excellent even. Sports Master raised a very talented daughter. No doubt about it. She was only sixteen and already he could see her becoming one of the best ninjas he had ever trained. Talent was aplenty in her. From ninjutsu to taijutsu. From stealth to open combat – she had the talent. Not to mention, the right mentality to survive in their business.

Damian on the other hand… he was a monster. No other ways about it. An absolute demon. Twelve going on thirteen, and already his skill surpassed anything Ra's had ever seen from any of his apprentices. His list included people like David Cain, Katana, Eric Needham, Bane, Lady Shiva, Malcolm Merlyn… The Detective… the list was as vast as it was endless. Every last one of them brilliant. Every last one of them trained by him – personally.

However, Damian… his every strike, his every stance, his every technique – from breathing to walking to meditation was perfect. He didn't use the word lightly. Before Damian, he questioned the existence of such a thing. _Perfection,_ Pfft. If humans were supposed to be perfect then there would be no need for his endless crusade.

Humans by definition were imperfect. Hence, they spent most of their life trying to achieve the pointless. Always failing, always falling short. That was human to the last strand of its DNA. Yet, they tried to achieve the impossible. While trying to do so they destroyed everything around them.

The point being – Damian made everyone else look inadequate. While others fought with their souls on line, he danced – forever graceful, forever perfect. In times like this Ra's wished he still had his eyes so that he could see. See, what perfection looked like.

Give any weapon in that boy's hand, and he mastered it in seconds while others took decades. This was not talent – it was something else. He was something else.

Ra's didn't remember a single instance where Damian had struggled with anything he had given. No matter the task. No matter the difficulty. Damian did it to utmost perfection.

Despite Ra's efforts in trying to increase the challenge every day – nothing seemed to faze him. Nothing seemed to challenge him. Ra's wondered whether the boy ever bled before, ever felt his body pushed to its very limits. Sadly, that was the crux of the problem.

Damian's own brilliance hindered his progress. His perfection denied him the chance for evolution. Since he had never been in a position where his life was on the line – he lacked the instinct of a warrior. A killer.

For all his skill, Damian was too kind. Kind to the point of being suicidal. The only chink in his armor of perfection. The only thing that made him look human. And the one thing which will _definitely_ get him killed.

Another thud and wooden creak, and Ra's knew Jade was defeated again. He smelled the air, searching for the scent of blood only to be disappointed. The boy had refused to shed blood again. _Too kind_.

"That's enough for today." Ra's said, and the combatants ceased their actions immediately. Ra's heard Damian take a step back and sheath his sword. While, Jade was still on the on her back – taking heavy breaths as she cursed up a storm under her breath.

Jade thought Ra's didn't hear but he heard everything. Maybe it would've been kinder if Damian had made her bleed, Ra's thinks.

After a minute, Jade leaves the dojo without a greeting. Still muttering creative expletives on her end. This had become a routine at this point.

"Sit with me, Damian." Ra's said, after ascertaining that Jade had left them.

"Yes, Shishou." Damian replied, sitting in seiza.

Ra's nose crinkled when the smell of the tea being crushed under the whisk reached him. This was a routine too. Something they have been doing since Damian was four. It was the boy's idea and something Ra's had come to enjoy over the years.

Damian poured the tea into two cups, as it bubbled away. After final two whisks, he handed one cup to Ra's. Who took a sip and released a deep sigh. Feeling rejuvenated, as strength returned to his old bones. _Perfect as always._

"I don't think she likes me, Shishou." Damian said.

"Does it bother you?" Ra's asked, "Because if it does my apprentice, only you are to blame for it."

"And how am I responsible for any of this?" Damian scrunched his eyebrows. "What have I ever done to receive such vitriol from her? She seems to make it a point to find faults in me just so she could hate me."

 _She didn't find any fault in you, that is why she hates you._ Ra's shook his head, as Damian's lack of social skills were laid bare to him. The sad part, none of it was the boy's fault. It was all his.

"You humiliated her, Damian." He said. "Made her feel worthless. You let the fight continue when you could've ended it in seconds. You didn't even bother to make her bleed, why is that? Need I remind you that we are ninjas – not a circus act! We end the fight as quick as possible! By whatever means necessary!"

"What am I to do then?" Damian asked. "Kill her? Go for her jugular? Doesn't seem like a civilized response in a common spar. And need I remind you that we were using live swords! One wrong move and I might've crippled her for life!"

"And what's wrong with crippling her? Maiming her, making her bleed, and killing her for that matter?" Ra's asked, his tone frosty at best. "You do realize that given a chance Jade would've done the same to you! She would've never hesitated, not for a single instant! So, the real question is why do you?"

Damian didn't answer.

"She gave everything in this spar – didn't hold a single thing back." Ra's spoke, and Damian cringed under the judgemental tone. "Yet all you seem to do is hold back… that _will_ get you killed one day."

"If I injure her too much then she wouldn't be able to fight tomorrow, and it's not like I can spar with you." Damian sighed. "I already have so few opportunities to exchange fists… as it is."

"You needn't remind me of my handicap." Ra's snorted. "And you are trying to avoid the problem."

"I'm sorry, Shishou." Damian blushed, "That was uncalled for."

"No offense taken." Ra's gave a curt reply. "And again, you are trying to avoid the problem. Why won't you kill, Damian?"

There was utter silence in the dojo except occasional sips of piping hot tea by Ra's al Ghul. Ra's listened, and he felt his apprentice's muscle tense under his scrutiny. However, he had no intention of letting Damian go – not today. This was a high time coming.

"Because I hate it."

Ra's raised a single eyebrow, "You hate it?" he asked, "Hardly the reason to not do it. I never asked you to like the act to begin with. There are many things people do even though _they hate it."_

"You know it's not the same." Damian mumbled.

"How so?" Ra's rubbed his chin. "Explain."

Damian frowned, he didn't see the need for any explanation. His master was smart enough to see his position on it. He explained it clear enough with his actions over the years. Clearly, they weren't enough.

"Killing is not like eating, breathing or running." Damian replied, choosing his words one at a time. "When you slip a sword between someone's ribs, you take everything a person is, and everything he will ever be. It's a _vile_ thing to do, and the most dangerous part – it gets easier every damn time. Look, what it has done to you…"

"What has it done to me?" Ra's asked with an edge to his voice. "You better choose your next words carefully."

Damian didn't relent. This needed to stop, he was tired of his master's constant hound to murder something.

"I know what the league of assassin does," Damian replied. "It's quite obvious, and you've never been shy to talk about it. You have killed without any semblance of conscience for the last six centuries. How many did you kill!? Hundreds? Thousan—"

"Millions." Ra's replied, blunt like a hammer.

"And now here you are!" Damian cried. "All alone! Your own assassins rebelled against you! Your own children rebelled against you! You even lost your Lazarus Pit! And now you are here training some kid you picked up from the streets – waiting to die alone. You have _nothing_.

"And now you want me to kill! Then you will lose me too… and you will truly be _blind_." Damian tried to get his breathing under control, but he was too angry to get it right. His palms were sweaty, and he could feel the beads of sweat roll down from his forehead. Funny, he felt exhausted – and he didn't break a sweat in his spar.

He grits his teeth… deep breaths, he thought. _I need to dump the bad ki, cleanse myself… and find my center._

All of the training went out the window, the second he heard a chuckle. Damian's head snapped towards his teacher who was now openly laughing. He didn't even think his master was capable of it. After all, he trained him as long as he could remember. He knew everything there was to know about his master – and now he was laughing at him. Cackling.

A deep fury stirred Damian's heart… the kind which makes one go numb. He didn't think he was capable of losing his cool like this either.

"What. Is. It?" Damian ground out, gritting his teeth.

Ra's al Ghul didn't answer. He was too busy laughing because this was ironic. _Even now, Detective – even now, when I am so close to my end, you haunt me._

"Nothing." Ra's replied. "It's just that this is only the second time I've heard a reasoning which was so _childish_. I never expected something like that from you – then again, you are but a child. A _naïve_ child who has never experienced the world for what it is."

"And whose fault is that!" Damian growled. _The sheer nerve of the old man…_

"Hush now," Ra's chided. "You have said your piece, and now let me say mine."

"Is that why you hold back?" asked Ra's al Ghul, "Because you fear ending up like me."

" _You have no idea what will happen if I don't hold back…"_

There was no arrogance in the statement, only self-assurance. Ra's mouth twitched, but then it turned in to one of horror. He felt something heavy press down his shoulders. Like the Greek Titan Atlas, the entire weight of the skies was thrust on top of him.

It felt as if hours had passed by, and then it lifted just as quick – like a snap of his fingers. Ra's was back in the real world. He was on his knees, panting or was it screaming – he wasn't sure. He could feel his body soaked in sweat, and his bones rattling like leaves in wind.

 _What happened?_ _Did the boy manifest his intent to kill into the physical world?_ Ra's eyes widened in incredulity. _Was that even humanly_ _possible?_ This was the first time Damian had shown something out of normal. The first time Ra's felt him angry. All these years, not even once did the boy throw a tantrum like this.

 _For someone who doesn't want to kill, Damian had quite the killing intent._ The dichotomy of it made Ra's smile.

"I see now…" Ra's spoke, taking a minute to get hold of himself.

Shame rolled of Damian like a wave. This wasn't right. This was the man who took care of him since the day he was born – clothed him, fed him, trained him, taught him how to read. And he lost his cool, the second he disagreed with the man. Ra's always knew how to press his nerves but he never lost his control like this. Never.

"Have you centered yourself?" asked Ra's, his body still shaking from the experience.

"Yes, I have." Replied Damian, trying his best not to stammer or let Ra's feel his shame. What's done is done, and there was no taking it back.

"Good," Ra's spoke. "I know that I am a pathetic sight now. I am no longer the fearsome warrior I once was. I am rendered blind. I am aging rapidly, and with no Lazarus Pit – I will die. That is inevitable and that day is not long now. But you and I are both aware that it wasn't because I killed rampantly.

" _It was because I saved you,"_ Ra's voice was heavy and Damian choked. "You are aware of it but you would rather turn away from the ugly truth. Something tells me that you also know that you are not some random kid I picked up but you would rather turn away from that truth too… because it would be _too_ ugly. Being blind, and weak was the price I paid for trying to bring you back."

A swift motion and the teacup in Damian's hand shattered. "Don't pretend you did it out of the goodness of your heart or I might just hurl, _grandfather_!" Damian spoke, and the temperature of the room dropped.

"How much do you know?" Ra's sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"More than you think."

"I am not going to apologize," Ra's said, with his straight back. "Everything I did, everything I will ever do will be to save this world. Nothing more and nothing less."

"What you did was disgusting." Damian snarled, not even bothering to hide his averseness to the act. "You tried to play God, and the Universe punished you for your _hubris_. You played with forces which you couldn't even comprehend – and in return, they played with you."

"And you comprehend them?" Ra's retort was quick. The skepticism was clear as day for Damian to see.

"More than you would ever know." Damian shuddered.

"And what did you comprehend?" Ra's needled.

"That they can't be comprehended." Damian chuckled. It was a bitter thing – lacking in humor.

"Pretty morbid time to jest, Damian."

"I wasn't."

"I see…"

"Do you?" Damian asked. "Because if you did, we wouldn't be here."

Utter Silence.

"I still say I don't regret it." Replied Ra's al Ghul.

" _Because you know not what you do."_

"Bible?" Ra's grin was thick with amusement.

"Luke 23:24."

"I know which verse it is!"

"I just thought you could use some religion," Damian replied with a straight face. "Might even make you less of an arsehole. Who knows maybe even help you grow a conscience."

Ra's bristled under his apprentice's language. It seemed today was a day of surprises and stupidity.

"I tried to mold you into something I wanted. Thinking that you were but a blank canvas," Ra's spoke trying to curb a growing headache, only to fail. "But I realize now that you gained your awareness the second I did what I did. So, now all I can do is be frank with you."

"Should have done it on the first day, grandfather. These constant little manipulations lose their charm pretty quickly."

"Nevertheless," Ra's spoke, "I shall do it now."

Damian straightened his back and took three deep breaths. "I am ready, grandfather."

"Have you ever heard about the Attack of Mers-el-Kébir?" Ra's asked.

"No," Damian shook his head, "I am afraid not, and I thought you were going, to be _frank_?"

"It was a naval battle which was fought in the 1940's on the coast of French Algeria, right at the eve of World War Two. Northern and Western France had already fallen to the German occupation. Giving the Nazis total control of the English Channel and the Atlantic Ocean. Making it easier for the Germans to project their power over the entire world."

"I see... but what does this have to do with me?"

"No, you don't _see_ anything, my apprentice." Ra's scolded, his voice stern. "And that is _precisely_ the problem."

Damian snorted, "Please carry on. Wish you did some of that storytelling when I was young."

Ra's continued, realizing the boy was trying to get under his skin.

"And the Germans would have easily taken advantage of their newfound superiority but there was one major hurdle to overcome before they could achieve that."

"They needed ships, didn't they?"

"Exactly!" replied Ra's, "And sadly Germans were masters of creating artillery but to create an armada that takes an amount of expertise and time they simply didn't have. But lo and behold! The French's of that time had the largest naval armada, certainly larger than the Brits, and even that of the Continent...

"And this presented a problem. The French navy was just returning after a mission, and if the Germans had gotten their hands on it then the entire free world would've been in danger to the violent Nazi propaganda. Considering most of France was already in control of the Germans – it would've been an easy thing.

"The late Winston Churchill realized that, and he did the only thing he could. He intercepted the naval convoy with his own Royal Navy and gave the French an ultimatum – they were to either surrender the navy or be perished."

"No…" Damian trailed off with growing horror.

"Yes," Ra's replied with a sardonic grin, "And the worst part, at the time the French and the Brits were allies. Very staunch allies. Like usual, the French pride surpassed common sense and they refused the demands of their allies so Churchill did the only thing he could and gave the order to sink the ships. It was simply too risky to not do it. The entire world depended on it.

"So, the Brits did the deed and it was over within hours and the entire French Armada kissed the seabed along with 1500 lives of brave but stupid Frenchmen. That's how Churchill saved the free world."

"Why tell me this?" Damian grit his teeth. "There was no need for this history lesson."

"So, that you can learn from it." Ra's replied, his tone somber like a graveyard. "You despise the fact that I tried to play God. You even detest the fact that I killed millions over the span of six centuries – because you refuse to see the obvious fact that I saved billions by doing it. Because admitting that would go against everything you stand for… isn't it? Since that wouldn't be very _hero-like_. You want to save everyone, don't you? Isn't that trying to play God? Something you claim to hate about me?" Ra's asked, mocking Damian though it lacked the scathing wit the man was known for.

"I-I…"

"You would rather turn away from the truth since it's downright hideous," Ra's snarled and Damian withered under the weight of it. "So, all I would ask from you is to never fear it and to never ever turn away from it – no matter the cost. Because the time is not far away when you will have to play _God_ to millions…"

A chill went down Damian's spine, and his throat went dry, "Evil is evil, lesser, greater, middling – makes no difference. If I am to choose between one evil and another, I'd rather not choose at all."

"And _that_ in itself is a choice – don't you realize that?" Ra's replied, "And a very selfish one at that."

"H-How so?" Damian's voice cracked, "How could asking for justice _ever_ be a selfish cause? How could my willingness to not kill an innocent _ever_ be the wrong one?"

"In an imperfect world, it is. Unfortunately, that's the only one we've got." Ra's replied, his face turning haunted. "You would rather let the world crumble under the weight of your ideals then save it – if that's not _hubris_ , I don't know what else is."

It was only a whisper, but Damian heard it clear anyway. That was the final nail in the so-called metaphorical coffin.

None spoke for minutes. Solemn silence hanged around the dojo like a guillotine.

"I must meditate on this." Damian said, getting up to move into his quarters.

"Take all the time you need," Ra's replied, "and don't you ever turn away from the truth. Remember, why do you breathe in this world – you at least owe me this much."

"I understand, Shishou."

"Your training is complete now, my _son_."

Damian missed a step, and his eyes widened – left incredulous by the sudden affection of Ra's al Ghul. He had never addressed him as a _son_ before or by any familial relation for that matter. The shock reverberating through his entire being was so potent that he almost missed that his training was over now. _Almost._

"Just like that?" Damian asked, and he wished he didn't sound like a boy. "All this time I was just your apprentice. Never a son. Never a family… _what changed?"_

"You always needed a teacher more than a father," Ra's said, his voice uncharacteristically soft, "but that's not the case anymore. You were always _family,_ Damian. You were always my _son_ in every sense."

Damian's back faced his grandfather, and he was glad for that. He didn't want him to sense how much it affected him even though Ra's must already know. The man was perceptive like that. "That sounds _nice._ I didn't know it would feel that good. Thanks, _grandpa_."

"You don't have to thank me for acknowledging what you already were." Ra's replied, trying not to sound melancholic, "If anything I should've done it sooner for your sake. You are already carrying a burden which will not lessen with time let this not be one of many."

"You can move out now if you want. You have no more reason to stay here anymore." Ra's said, "You will be thirteen in a month and you have yet to see anything this world has to offer."

"I will. In exactly six months, thirteen days, two hours, and four minutes."

Ra's grinned, "That's oddly specific."

"That's how long you've left to live." Damian replied, "Your cancer is spreading."

"So, you knew." Ra's asked, "Since when?"

"Last year."

"You knew from the very start." Ra's replied, "How?"

"You aren't as good as you think," Damien smiled, despite the situation – it wasn't often he caught the great Ra's al Ghul off guard. "I want to stay until the end. You deserve a proper rest."

"I wasn't aware you could calculate it to such accuracy.' Ra's replied, 'That is assuming if you are right."

"I actually calculated till the nearest pico-second," Damian's lips turned into a thin line. "And my calculations are always right. It's not even that difficult. I have to take the growth rate of the tumor and its capability to spread through lymph nodes in mind. Of course, there are other factors like the patient's age, and immunity but those are trivial."

" _How much more can you do?"_ Ra's whispered.

"So much more. So much more…" _If only you knew._

"I don't think I am going to make it till six months."

"I know," Damian replied, "When I calculated it, I didn't take human will into account… it _complicates_ every equation."

"What is the constant you generally use for human will?"

"I assume it's infinite."

Ra's chuckled, "Human-will is hardly infinite… I myself am proof of that."

"Strange," Damian replied, "In my case, it always works."

" _Pride_ truly is your magical flaw, son." Ra's warned, "Don't let it destroy you."

"I guess three months then," Damian replied, closing the door behind him. "By that time pain will be unbearable. I will go and crush some herbs to at least make it as painless as possible."

Ra's heard everything.

* * *

 _Breathe in…. Breathe out… Let the ki move from your stomach to your muscles… to your organs… to your heart… expand your senses… feel everything around you… from the air to the seas, from the flora to the fauna. Let your senses pass through them and let them pass through you… Become one with the world and the let the world be one with you._ This was the **Triple-Blossom Meditation.**

Damian felt his Ki respond to his wishes, sitting in a lotus position. He felt his bones becoming denser. His organs more resilient, as the Ki passed through them. He wasn't even sure whether it was Ki anymore since there was so much of it in his body.

Everybody had a life force in them which when trained sufficiently can help in doing incredible martial feats. That was the Ki… every great martial artist could use it in some form. It was willpower given form. Every living creature no matter which planet, no matter which universe had it in some form.

However, Damian wasn't sure what he had could even be quantified. It was bottomless, like staring into the heart of a million exploding stars. Maybe it was even more than that because he had never seen the entirety of this power. Was this the result of the botched up ritual Ra's al Ghul did – in his moment of desperation?

Damian didn't dwell on it much longer. That was not the reason he ever meditated. He wasn't worried about the power which dwelled in him – infinity didn't scare him. After all, it was a localized phenomenon. One could turn over a stone and find infinity staring at them. Even time and space were nothing more than an extension of will – the _mind_.

That was what worried him, the _mind._ The being from which the power was stolen from, had a mind so complex, so vivid, and so vast that infinity itself became a single grain of sand – finite. He had no words to describe it… How could one ever hope to describe the indescribable?

The scary part – he understood this presence. This power which had pervaded his very being down to his very soul was forcing him to understand it.

Damian didn't think Ra's could ever comprehend the height of his stupidity, and what it had cost Damian. Every day this power threatened his _individuality._ He was one while this power was everything in the entire multiverse – maybe even beyond the multiverse.

But still, Damian didn't let this thing win. His willpower was greater than the infinity – unyielding and unbending even against the impossible.

He still remembered the first time this power took hold of him. He was dead – a stillborn infant. However, the mind behind the power was so strong that it willed him back to life.

Resurrection always has a price attached to it, and this one had a huge reparation. Some of it was paid by Ra's al Ghul. He lost his sight, as he heard every ninja still loyal to him get incinerated. He also lost his Lazarus Pit where he conducted the thrice-damned ritual.

But the cost of this stupidity didn't end there. The price of resurrection was paid by Ra's. However, that was not all he asked for… he wished for _the limitless_ power to change the world.

This power wasn't meant for Damian, it was meant for Ra's al Ghul. It was what his master asked for, wished for. He would've even gotten it if only he had taken one thing into account.

The thing was, a being who had power like that to spare couldn't be controlled – _it rebelled_. Furious, that an ant-like Ra's would try to take control of him. _Of him!_ So it rebelled and made its home in Damian denying Ra's in the process.

 _Breathe in…. Breathe out._

Damian exhaled, taking air through his nose, and releasing it from the mouth.

This _power_ didn't bring him back from dead or gave him power because it wanted to – No, it simply did it to spite Ra's al Ghul.

It tried to take over everything Damian ever was, and everything Damian ever will be. Even as an infant he knew the terror of it, _so he rebelled too_. He didn't understand a thing, after all, he was an infant. He didn't have the awareness to understand anything but he still rebelled by _everything he ever was and everything he will ever be_.

He used the entity's very own power against it – used its vast mind and will to empower his own puny one. Damian remembered every life he lived before he was born in this place. Every choice he ever made, in the vast multiverse. Every damn thing! A moment ago, he was an infant – and then he wasn't.

Even after fighting that hard, this entity's power was too much… but then by some miracle, this godly being backed off. Thinking back on it, Damian was sure it was only amusement which stopped the thing from consuming his very being. Sheer fucking amusement!

 _Breathe in…. Breathe out._

Most of the lives he lived were unremarkable. In some, he was an engineer. In another a doctor, pilot, soldier and so on. Sometimes human, sometimes alien, sometimes even an animal. But there was one which stood out.

 _Breathe in…. Breathe out._

Emiya Shirou.

One of the countless other lives he lived. This was another problem. This previous life of Damian had a personality which overpowered every other one; sometimes even his own – downright consuming them. It seemed to eat the other ones with one single thought… _save them, save all of_ _them. Never stop, never rest… simply_ _save them. No matter what the cost._

The desire was so strong that if Damian tried to hurt someone, it would whisper in his ear, _you know this is wrong, this isn't right, this isn't justice…. This isn't what heroes do._

After a full decade of this back and forth, Damian wasn't sure where Shirou began and he ended. Their personality was intermixed to the point that even by intense meditation he couldn't separate it. He wondered who wanted to save the world was it Shirou or Damian?

Damian sighed, he was twelve and he was already dealing with issues on how to save the world. The sheer insanity of it sometimes gave him a pause. Him save the world? The boy who has never seen anything out of the mountains where he was born. How could someone who has never seen the world, or experienced it in any significant way save it? Certainly not how Shirou wanted!

Shirou had one single thought and desire that one day he could smile just like Kiritsugu after saving someone. His survivor's guilt on that terrible fire seemed to rule every decision he ever made. From the War to his personal life – what little he had on that. He wanted to save everyone. Period. No matter how disgusting the person was – he wanted to save them!

Him on the other hand, Damian was still figuring the kind of man he wanted to be. However, one thing was clear, he didn't want to end up like Shirou… what he did to himself was worse then what Ra's al Ghul did. That kind of selflessness was dangerous not to just him but to everyone around him.

The thing was no matter how much he denied. One fact would never change – that he was Shirou and he was Damian. They were one and the same.

* * *

Jade woke up at the crack of dawn, took a quick bath and headed straight towards the dojo. She had been doing this for the last two weeks, since the day she arrived here.

But today was different. Normally, when she arrived the Ra's and the boy would already be here but today only the boy was there, and he wasn't wearing a mask – for the very first time.

He was young just like she thought, still had baby fat on his cheeks. She must've looked at him for a minute, trying to take in all his features. _Cute,_ she thought. He looked adorable in the little boyish way with his well-combed brunette hair and glistening green eyes. _Those eyes…_

"Good Morning, Miss Nguyen." Damian said.

Jade missed a step, "You can talk!?"

"Of course," Damian's lips twitched, "Did you think I was mute?"

"No," Jade replied, "If you were mute the conversation between you and Ra's would be nothing short of impossible. You know with him being blind and all."

"Yeah," Damian replied, "It would be quite something wouldn't it, Miss Nguyen?"

"Ugh!" Jade cried, "Stop calling me Miss Nguyen! And stop being so damn polite, you are weirding me out!" _You sure as fuck weren't half as polite when you were handing my ass to me yesterday or the day before that or the day before before that!_

"I must apologize." Damian replied. "What shall I call you then?"

"Just Jade would be fine."

"Hmm… I see, _Jade_." Damian replied, tasting the word and then he looked at her with sharp eyes as if he was stripping her to see her insides.

Jade shuddered under his child-like scrutiny, feeling like a lab rat undergoing vivisection, "Stop. Looking. At. Me. Like. That." She ground out, trying to return her own glare with equal vitriol.

"Does it displease you?" Damian asked, "I was only trying to get a good look."

"What were you looking at!?" Jade screamed in outrage, unconsciously covering her chest with her arms. She was wearing a kimono showing far more cleavage then she was comfortable with.

"Your body." Damian replied, with an obvious look.

Jade colored again, whether it was embarrassment or rage she couldn't decipher. "W-Why you? Just how old are you?" Even people her age weren't that forward! And she was sixteen!

"Will be thirteen in a month." Damian replied. "What does that have to with anything? I assure you my wisdom is not rendered meaningless by my age."

"Jesus, what kind of thirteen-year-old talks like that!" Jade cried, "And what wisdom! You're just a horny brat!"

"Horny?" Damian scrunched his brows. He was puzzled by the idea that she would think he was horny then like a light bulb – he got it. "Oh! You don't have to worry about that! You and I, _that's impossible!_ I would never go for someone like you!"

Damian laughed, tears coming out of his eyes, amused by the very notion that Jade would think that.

Jade felt her patience snap. She struggled to stop herself from swinging her sword at Damian. The only thing preventing her was she already knew it would be an exercise in futility. Instead, she smiled through her gritting teeth, 'That's nice to know.'

"So, since now we've gotten that out of the way,' Damian snickered, 'We can talk about what matters."

"And what would that be?"

"The thing is your body is not suited for using a sword. At the least, not to its full extent."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Your body – it's too womanly."

"It is?" Jade's voice caught between somewhere being pleased, and annoyed.

"Yes," Damian replied, "You lack the upper body strength to really put weight behind your strikes, and your hips are too wide to learn most of the styles my master knows. Since they are specifically geared towards a male body type."

 _Hips too wide._ Jade didn't listen to anything else. _Hips too wide… Did he just_ _say I'm fat!?_

"At the least, we don't have to worry about your breasts," Damian continued unaware of the distress he was causing the poor woman, "They are small enough that they won't get in the way in a fight!"

 _Hips too wide… and breasts too small._ Jade saw red, and it was pure unadulterated feminine fury.

In a quick draw, she took out her ninjato and took a swing. Damian, he simply caught the blade between his index and middle finger. _He caught it! He fucking caught it!_

"Like I said, not enough strength."

Jade growled, took another swing. Damian stepped back dodging by only an inch. She swung again, and he took another step.

For the next five minutes, Jade kept on swinging the sword in every style she knew only for Damian to keep on dodging by a single inch. She was using maximum effort to harm him and Damian was using minimal movement to glide out of the way. No wasted effort.

 _Why is this happening?_ Jade wondered. She had fought so many people before even sixteen some would consider her an expert when it came to combat. She was good. She was _real_ good.

She had taken people like Deathstroke and Ravager head on, and survived to tell the tale. If that wasn't proof of her skill then she didn't know what else was – granted she had her father's help but still, it counted for something!

So how was she so outclassed against a boy who has never probably even killed someone before? Never felt the blood flow through his blade! How!?

It took looking at his face to realize how effortless this was to him, he danced gracefully around her relentless strikes like an albatross gliding through the skies! There was a nobility and grace to his movements which Jade realized she could never achieve even if she trained all her life.

"Rotate your hips, Jade." Damian said dodging another strike, "That is where the power comes from."

"Urgh! Shut up and stay still! And stop analyzing me!"

Jade took another swing at Damian's head leaving herself wide open. Damian didn't miss the chance. In a burst of speed, Jade thought superhuman. He got inside her guard and caught her sword arm in a vice grip – and he pressed down until she was on her knees and her sword hit the ground in a mighty clang.

 _Strong,_ Jade thought. _So, strong!_

Jade looked up at Damian with a snarl, defiance still strong in her veins. This was no longer about her assets… she didn't know what this was about anymore. Maybe she just wanted to vent her frustration out. She just really wanted to hurt him.

This entire thing reminded too much of the life she left behind in the Starling City. The sister she left behind. The paraplegic mother she left behind – the _weakness and powerlessness_ she left behind. _Because in her family it was every girl for herself._

If you wanted to eat, you better find food for yourself. If you wanted shelter better earn for yourself. If you wanted to survive amongst the dregs of the Starling City with your innocence intact better learn to fight for yourself. No matter the situation – _it was always every girl for herself._

Jade realized that at the tender age of ten years. She saw the cruelty and unfairness of her world and realized the only way she could ever hope to survive was by attaining _power_. So, she did just that. Left her sister and her mother right there and then – and joined her father in the _business_.

No matter how much of a scumbag and general arsehole her father was. He was powerful and he controlled his own destiny, unlike her mother. For six continuous years, she joined in some of the most dangerous jobs with her father. Earning a reputation and notoriety for herself, gaining strength with each dangerous encounter.

Until stagnancy hit like a cinderblock. Because now her skills were as good as her father. The only thing which gave her old man the edge was his experience. So, to increase her skills she tried to find the head of the demon, the great Ra's al Ghul. The man who trained not only her father but some of the best assassins there ever was.

And she found him after six months and spending almost every penny she had only to learn that the man she sought was blind. But she still decided to learn under the man's tutelage. Arrogant, thinking that anything the Ra's would throw at her will be easily conquered.

He threw Damian at her.

Now, she was on her knees – humiliated once again. _Still powerless._

She glared daggers at him, looking him straight in the eye. Realizing for the very first time how outclassed she was. Even after the ass-kicking she received the last two weeks she still believed herself stronger, more skilled.

But now reality had finally kicked in. She realized for the very first time that no matter how much she trained, no matter what tactic she used, what weapon she used – she would never surpass Damian. She finally met an opponent who she couldn't best despite all her effort. Meeting Damian was like dancing with the Devil.

And for the devil, he _really_ had beautiful eyes. She couldn't look away from it even if she tried her darn best. Even if those eyes were as cold as ice right now, she simply couldn't look away.

Then like a snap of her fingers, the ice in them melted away to make way for spring. She was stunned by the softness in them. The vulnerability was naked for anyone to see. It was something she would've never shown even in her weakest movements. It was as if he understood her… she didn't know how that was even possible.

"I have displeased you again," Damian's voice cracked, "Haven't I? I assure you that wasn't my intention."

"Haven't anyone ever taught you how to talk to women?" Jade growled, "Heck have you ever talked to a lady before? Y-You can't just talk about their breasts and arse like its weather!"

"I admit I have never talked to a girl before," Damian's eyes lowered as if he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "You are the first girl I have ever met."

"W-What?" Jade shook her head, snatching her hand away from Damian's grip which had gone slack. "You're telling me that before until two weeks ago you've never even seen a girl!"

Damian nodded.

"How is that even possible!?" Jade screamed, "Like half the population in the world is us! I call bullshit. There's no way you're telling the truth!"

Damian smiled, his voice dry, "When you've never been outside of these mountains, you tend to miss a lot of things… and I'm afraid my social skills regarding the fairer sex just happen to be one of the casualties."

"You're kidding." Jade gave him the look. "So, you're saying that all you've ever done since the day you were born is train. How do you pass your time?"

"If you mean what I do for my enjoyment then I read," Damian replied, "Shishou has an amazing library."

"Ugh… reading." Jade blanched, "So, you've never seen the outside world?"

"Well, I'll be moving out in few months so I will get to see it then." Replied Damian, "And it's not like I don't venture outside. I often go to the lake for a swim and hunt animals for meat in the forest. Over the years, I've learned to occupy myself."

"But there is nothing remotely resembling civilization for at least a hundred miles…" Jade spoke sounding pitiful. "I would know because it took me close to six months to find this place and I got _damn_ lucky."

Damian ignored her look and picked up the sword which Jade used against him, "This sword is precious to you isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, how do you know that?" Jade bit her lips, "It was my mother's."

"You always carry it with you no matter where you go," Damian handed the sword over to her, "So I just assumed it was but I still think it's not the right weapon for you."

Jade's lips thinned, "So what is?"

"Sais." Damian replied. "With them, you will be able to move faster since they don't weigh much and you can deliver precise strikes to the kill points. It's a perfect weapon for someone like you."

"I have no idea how to use a sai." Jade admitted with a blush.

"I can teach you."

"Just how many weapons can you use?"

"Everything." Damian replied. "When it comes to weapons nobody is better than me. I am the _expert."_

"That doesn't sound arrogant at all." Jade's lips twisted.

"It's hardly arrogance when it's simple truth." Damian smirked, "You will see, that is if you let me train you."

"Fine, let's begin then."

Damian shook his head, "Not today, we are both exhausted from our previous activities. Some relaxation and good food will do us good. Especially, after the disaster, I've seen you make in my kitchen."

"That was only one time!"

"You tried to cook some rice and some meat and ended up burning them both to crisp."

Jade blushed refusing to meet Damian's eyes, "As if you can do better…" she mumbled.

"Fortunately for you, that's another thing where none is my _better."_

Jade's eyes twitched, now he definitely sounded arrogant! "Well, I'll see you in the kitchen, Master Chef."

Damian sighed, as he watched Jade saunter away to the kitchen, but his eyes didn't leave the sword on her back. A look of abject shame crossed Shirou's face. When Jade was swinging her sword, he structurally grasped it. Shirou's skill, to Damian it was as natural as breathing. It was instinctual at this point.

Normally, most of the swords didn't have a history behind them but when he used his structural grasp on hers, he got to see every last memory of Jade. The number of times she felt helpless, the way she left her sister, the people she _killed_ – everything, down to last-minute detail.

Damian saw every part of her life and some part of him just felt violated that he of all had violated someone's privacy like this when he respected his so much. She would never know – he will make sure of that, but he will never forget what he had done. His prodigious mind wouldn't allow it!


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter -2**

Jade watched, as a knife went through vegetables and meat like a shredder. Cutting them into perfect symmetrical pieces. There was an experience there, Jade realized. The kind of experience which comes years after working behind the kitchen. Damian's hands moved with a familiarity which would make a Michelin Star chef green with envy.

The complete control of it all, it was like she was again under his mercy on the dojo. Though this time she didn't mind. Damian's food tasted _divine_. She was no connoisseur. In fact, she was the farthest thing from it considering her _humble_ beginnings. Not to mention the food she tasted before was either cooked by herself or her mother. Hardly, what would construe as edible let alone those designer dishes shown in the telly.

 _Thwack! Thwack!_

Damian sliced the onion and dropped them in the stew. Jade moaned as a sweet smell pervaded the entire kitchen. Mixed with the spicier ones of other dishes.

It wasn't like this was the first time she was seeing this. This wasn't even the first time she tasted Damian's cooking. However, this was the first time she _observed_. The first time she saw a master make a masterpiece – a peak under the curtain if you will.

"Damian," Jade rested her head on the table, "Someday you're going to make a woman real happy?"

Damian rolled his eyes, "You've been saying that for a week." He gave one quick stir to the boiling pot. Then looked at the oven where the potatoes were roasting brown.

"I will keep on saying that!" Jade replied, "Where did you even find the ingredients in a place like this?"

"I grow most of the vegetables and spices," replied Damian, "As for meat, I hunt them. There is enough game in the forest." That being said Damian missed other common comforts of civilized life. He couldn't wait to go outside.

"Grow them?" Jade smiled, "Do you even sleep?"

"From time to time, for the novelty of it." _No, not really. Why bother when you don't have to? Why bother wasting all that time? It was such a precious resource._

"You're funny." Jade shook her head, "If somebody hears that the Heir to the Demon likes to garden they would go nuts."

"I told you all this the very first day I cooked for you." Damian glared at her, "Clearly, you didn't listen!"

"How could I listen!?" Jade blushed cherry red, "You are so merciless with my new training regimen! By the end of it, I am so exhausted to even lift a finger let alone hold a conversation!" _And it also doesn't help that you don't even know what getting tired means!_

Damian puffed his cheeks, "But you said _I understand…"_

"Look when I say I understand, it doesn't mean I understand," Jade's lips quirked, "It doesn't even mean I'm listening."

"So, then why do you say it?"

"Because it seems to make people happy," Jade replied, smacking her hands on the table. "And that's what I'm all about!"

"You sure didn't care about making me feel good when you first came here…" Damian mumbled.

"You said something?"

"Nothing! Look, the foods ready."

* * *

Damian crushed the herbs in a small bowl with a stone whisk. After giving a few more grinds, he stared into the ingredients. Looking into the various green and blues knowing the pointlessness of his actions.

No matter what he did, these herbs were not going to save his grandfather's life. They will at best act as a pain-killer, which will stop working after this month. After that, there will be just pain. Untold pain.

That was the thing with cancer. It was a slow killer. It took its own damn time to crush their victim's soul and the ones closest to them. Until they are nothing but husks of their former selves.

Damian sighed and entered his grandfather's quarters. His steps light as a feather. He frowned, the smell of death was thick in the air. Like a slick miasma choking the life out of everything it touched – one could taste it if they stuck their tongue out.

"Damian, is that you?" Ra's whispered.

"Yes, _father."_ Damian gazed at the figure under the blanket.

"You don't have to run on eggshells around me," Ra's said, "I know I am dying. Both of us have already established that."

"I brought medicine." Damian replied, "It will help with the pain."

"With each passing day, they effect less and less…" Ra's lips thinned, "I'm afraid I will be dying sooner then you think."

"If only you would let me go and get some real medicines– " Damian grabbed his forehead in frustration.

"And what!? You will plug me with enough morphine to render an elephant's mind invalid!" Ra's screamed only to cough blood. "I'm afraid I won't allow that!"

Damian moved towards his grandfather but the man stopped him. "I might be blind and weak but I am still the Head of the Demon…" Ra's struggled with his breath, "At the least, I will die with some dignity. That's one thing I refuse to compromise on."

"It's just your pride speaking," replied Damian, "And you're not dead yet."

" _Pride is everything."_

There was silence in the chambers. Damian couldn't help but notice his grandfather. How weak he looked – hardly, the intimidating man everybody described him as.

Ra's skin looked like untreated old leather. Pale to the point of making him look, albino – barely sticking to the bones. Just breathing seemed to bring him untold pain. However, despite all this Damian noticed that the man's back was straight like a rod – refusing to bend.

"I've almost forgotten what being _sane_ felt like," Ra's mumbled under his breath, but Damian heard him clear enough. "Years of using Lazarus Pit had left me in a state worse then I could ever truly fathom… and now that I am sane of mind, I refuse to lose it by taking medicines which would only alleviate my pain momentarily. I simply _refuse_ to."

Damian remained silent.

"I can't believe that death has finally caught up to me. It's _surreal_." Ra's continued, "I thought I would outrun it forever till the end of time. So, now that I can feel the reaper breathing down on me I can't help but fear it."

"You've lived a full life father," Damian stared everywhere but his father, "You've lived centuries. Fallen in love, had a wife, had children. You have even died before… you of all shouldn't fear the inevitable."

"I do no fear for the life already lived," Ra's turned towards Damian, "I fear for what I leave behind."

Damian shuddered. Even as blind Ra's al Ghul was – he still seemed to see through him. "I will be fine, father. You don't have to worry about me." Damian's voice cracked, "You've taught me all there is to teach – if anything I will survive."

"Surviving isn't enough," Ra's replied, "You are to save the world. Save the people, and save the beauty of this planet – just surviving won't do. I know you won't settle for just that either."

"Nevertheless, I will persevere." Damian's eyes turned hard, "I will not fail. So, die with peace."

"I am not dead yet." Ra's lips twitched, a hint of a smile, "Especially when there's still much to be done yet."

Damian smiled and placed the now forgotten medicine on the lamp desk.

Ra's took a deep breath and passed a box towards Damian, "Take this," he waved it when Damian didn't take it. "It belongs to you. My very last gift."

Damian took the box and opened it. He raised a single eyebrow, "It's just a key," he looked closer and noticed that there seemed to be no cuts on it. It looked like a rod with a very intricate bow – shaped like a cross. "A key with computer-generated cuts on it. So small that they are invisible even under a common microscope. Very high tech and hard to come by, and downright difficult to duplicate."

"Difficult?" Ra's asked, "I was told that they were impossible."

"It always is until somebody goes and does it." Damian replied, "What does it open?"

"A safe box in Gotham." Ra's replied, "Specifically, Depository Bank of Old Gotham."

"That's quite the key for a bank to have," Damian snickered, "Must be quite the safe."

"The best in fact," Ra's replied, "They have branches all over the world. Providing clandestine banking services to various businesses. They are very discreet and don't ask any questions."

"Illegal businesses?"

"Both legal and illegal." Ra's replied, "And above all they are secure. That's what matters. Nobody can access the account without the key and the password."

"No paperwork's?"

"That is the point."

"I see. What does the safe contain?"

"Like I said my last gift to you."

"That really doesn't explain much, father."

Ra's grinned, "Twenty million dollars in unmarked bills, and some gold bars along with addresses to some of my safe houses which I never shared with anyone else. And some other knick-knacks which I think you might find useful."

Damian's eyes widened, "That's a lot."

"You really didn't think I would just let you go out in the world with nothing but the clothes on your back." Ra's shook his head, his voice dry, "But this is not enough, nowhere near enough for what you need to do but it's still a start."

"I-I will manage…"

"No, you can't." Ra's lips turned thin, "But if you are half as smart as you think you are. You will find a way to turn this meager sum into thousand-fold. _Do not waste this."_

"I won't."

"You better not." Replied Ra's, "Because this is nowhere near enough to continue our crusade. Your crusade. Back in the days, I had near infinite resources and allies whose views aligned with my own. Even with that, I barely accomplished anything significant. You have none of that. You will have to develop everything from the ground up."

Damian sighed, "What about the league of assassins?"

"You will have to deal with them." Ra's face twisted. If Damian didn't know better he would've thought that his father was feeling regretful, "The league of assassins is now divided between two factions both of them controlled by my estranged daughters – Nyssa, and my _little Talia_."

"Son, be very cautious. Always keep an eye on your back," Ra's continued, "Eventually, they will find out about you. They will try to eliminate you. Because you're a direct threat to the organization. The only son of Ra's al Ghul – carrying both my blood and my training."

" _You have more right to be the head of the organization then they ever will."_

"I get it," Damian interrupted Ra's in a clipped tone, "You don't have to worry about them. I will deal with them when the time is right."

"Your arrogance is showing." Ra's face tightened, "This is what I was afraid of. You are not taking this seriously! Nyssa Ratko has centuries of experience over you. She has done things which would make your skin crawl and _little Talia_ …. Despite being younger than Nyssa is still far better trained in the ways of the world then you are – and even she has decades over you!"

"And you are not taking me _seriously!"_ Damian ground his teeth. "I told you I would deal with them – and that's the end of it! It doesn't matter if they know _more about the ways of the world_ than me.' Damian spat, 'I intend to change this world. So it doesn't matter what they know about it. It's hardly arrogance when it's just self-assurance – like I said the other day."

"And how do you intend to deal with it?" Ra's needled.

"I will _deal_ with them _my way_." Damian's eyes turned hard.

Utter silence.

"Talia she's your mot—"

"I know." Damian replied with a clipped tone, "I have always known – and I say, it still doesn't change a thing. I will deal with her and your other daughter. I can't leave them alone – not with a good conscience. They are far too unreliable and malicious for me to _allow_ that!"

"They are dangerous…" Ra's trailed off.

"And so am _I."_

"Are you not curious about your parents?" Ra's asked, with a tone which Damian couldn't quite decipher – maybe it was remorse, "All these years, and you've never asked a single thing about them. Normal children would be curious – but you, nothing? Did you never wish for them to be in your life?"

Damian frowned, he was confused. He should want them to be in his life, _Shouldn't he?_ Normal kids, they tend to be attached to their parents. If they didn't have any they tended to look for them in other people.

The only person he ever considered father before Ra's was Kiritsugu Emiya. Or at least Shirou did. So in a roundabout way, he was a father to him too. As a child, Shirou had taken Kiritsugu's ideals no matter how flawed and hypocritical they were. He followed them to the very grave. But that was another life. This one was different. _He was not Shirou. He hoped he wasn't?_

Damian stared at Ra's and a small shiver ran down his spine. For the first time, he saw the similarity between both of his father figures. Both ill – waiting to die. Both wanting to pass on their ideas. Both people he couldn't save.

Damian's heart shrunk in his chest, "I guess I'm not normal then." He replied, "And I think it's for the better."

"Maybe, it is." Ra's grumbled under his breath, "Do you know who your father is?"

"You are," Damian replied, "And that's all that matters."

"There is a real father for you out there. One who is still alive. One who you share blood with." Ra's scratched his elbow, "Are you still not curious?"

"I share blood with you," Damian grinned, sitting beside his grandfather. "And look where that has gotten me. I shudder to meet another man with whom I share blood!"

"You know what I mean." Ra's scrunched his eyebrows.

"Something tells me knowing about him will only make things worse." Replied Damian, "So, I simply chose to forget about it."

"I see." Ra's replied, "When you go to Gotham, do yourself a favor and _stay."_

"Why?"

"It's your home if you intend to save the world – start from your home."

"Just rest father." Damian replied, "You are tired."

"At the least think about it."

"I will." Replied Damian, and he got up and closed the door behind him, "Now, just rest."

The moment the door closed with a click, a savage grin appeared on Ra's face. The kind which will make a lion run back to its den – cowering in abject fear. _Even as I take my last breath, I shall_ _cause trouble for you Detective!_ Thinks Ra's al Ghul.

Even weak, blind, and on his last legs. Ra's was still the Head of the Demon.

* * *

Damian took a deep breath. These last few days his every conversation with Ra's tend to be heavy side, leaving him exhausted in the end. He took another breath trying to cleanse his ki and to regain his center. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"You can come out now." Damian said, "You are not very good at hiding."

Jade came out from the very end of the hallway. Holding her elbows in an awkward manner, "I'm sorry about that, I didn't think your conversation would turn so heavy." Damian looked at her, and Jade didn't dare look him in the eye.

"I was just curious, I didn't think it would be this personal."Jade replied, feeling a tad bit intimidated. _And I am very good at hiding, Thank you very much! You are just_ _weirdly_ _good at everything._

Damian smiled, "How much did you hear?" _If only you knew just_ _how much I know about you. Everything._

"Pretty much everything." Jade's lips twisted, "He's not going to make it, is he?"

"No, he's not." Replied Damian, "Death has finally caught up with him."

"I never thought there would come a day when Ra's al Ghul of all would die," Jade looked at Damian with pity, "I thought he had something which could bring the dead back to life but I'm assuming that's not the case anymore."

"You assume right."

"This can't be easy for you." Jade turned her eyes to Damian, playing with her locks of hair, "He was pretty much the only person you ever knew."

"It isn't, but I have come to accept it." Damian shook his head, "… and I've had time to adjust. I knew about his cancer since last year even though he only told me a week and a half back."

Jade didn't say anything neither did Damian.

"What are you going to do now?" Damian asked moving towards the dojo with quick steps as Jade followed him.

"I don't know." Jade replied honestly, "I came here to train under probably the greatest master of all time and now after spending six months trying to find him and depleting all of my resources – I find out that he's in no condition to teach me. I feel bust."

"You should come with me – to Gotham."

"I've known you only for a few weeks," Jade replied shaking her head, "And I don't know what kind of girl you think I am but there's no way in hell I am involving myself in whatever crap you've got yourself into!"

"It will be an opportunity to change things for the better," Damian replied, "That kind of chance comes once in a lifetime. Many would kill for it…"

Jade laughed, a full belly aching laugh, "You mean once in a lifetime chance to get myself killed for absolutely nothing! I don't think you have a single idea what you are up against! You can't save the world! Heck! You can't save Gotham." She smacked her lips, "This world is a sad place filled with individuals who would take advantage of someone when they notice a single moment of weakness… and I'm just like them."

" _Maybe_ _I think_ _very differently_ _about you_."

Jade didn't know why but she blushed crimson, "You've no idea what you are talking about. You have no allies, even your cash is meager. It's amazing just how naïve you are!"

"No allies?" Damian asked, scrunching his eyebrows, "I have you."

"I said I'm not joining you in your little crusade!" Jade cried, "You're the heir to the demon, not a superhero so stop acting like one!"

"I don't want to be a superhero. I will never be a superhero." Damian said, "I just want to save as many lives as possible."

Jade eyes widened. She never expected such an innocent answer from someone who was trained to kill a human being in hundred different ways. It was _ridiculous_. So, ridiculous that she couldn't even laugh at it.

"There is something really messed up with you if you think you can succeed where the others have failed!" Jade's eyes turned red in fury, and she turned around to walk out of the dojo.

"Jade, wait." Damian said, his urgency was clear and for some reason Jade stopped, "Stay with me. Stay until all this ends. I will train you until then."

"Why should I?" Jade murmured, her lips trembled, "Nothing you show will ever convince me. _Why are you so adamant on making me stay?"_

There, she finally asked it, the one question she wanted the answer to. All this time she talked to Damian there was a desperation that both of them seemed to be clinging on. Refusing to let go in their own way.

"You are right, I don't know you very well. I shouldn't be this pushy. It's not my place. I have no right." Jade stiffened as Damian continued. "All that is true but there is a part of me which says that if I let you go today then I will regret it my whole life… _that I would lose you forever."_

Damian rolled his fists, and his nails dug into his palms drawing blood, "And that's not something I am okay with. _Not at all._ So, I ask you to stay."

Jade choked, her eyes glistened, "I-I… What can you do in a month or two which can change my mind?"

" _I will make you a believer."_ Damian's emerald eyes turned hard, and Jade gulped, "So stick around and you won't be disappointed. You want training – you will get the best. If wealth is what you want – I will give you more than you could ever imagine. All you have to do is stick around."

Damian walked out of the dojo but Jade stood there stock still _._

 _Did he just_ _propose to me!?_

* * *

It was already more than two months. Jade's arms and knees moved like lightning over the wooden wing chun dummies. Each strike, rattling the wooden arms. If she went harder they would break under the force of her strikes. Yet she continues on. A habit she developed over the years to counter her frustrations.

More than two months. And not a single word from Damian! Not even a whisper! It's like they weren't in the same house.

So yeah, she was frustrated. _I will make you a believer._ Another punch and the wooden dummy broke in two. 'Aaargh!' she screamed, not because of the pain. She barely registered it even as the wooden splinters pierced her skin.

 _Maybe_ _I think_ _very differently_ _about you_.

Jade huffed, panting with exertion, 'You say things like that then you won't even look at me.'

So yeah, she was frustrated. Jade felt like she had every right to be. You just don't say things like that to a girl and then ignore her! Damian had no manners – hers weren't anything to applaud over but she still had them.

However, despite her frustrations, she understood why Damian was acting like this. Ra's was dying and he was dying fast. Faster than she had imagined. These last few days all she heard from the man's room were screams followed by whimpers. The pattern was always the same.

It was a shame that the Great Ra's al Ghul of all was going die like an old man. He deserved better. He deserved to die by a sword. Or in a battle. The man earned at least that much.

It was a real shame. She would've done it herself but she didn't think Damian would be amiable to that.

A bone-chilling scream echoed through the dojo, snapping Jade out of her musings. She waited for the whimper. That was the pattern. None came.

"Oh, Damian…."

* * *

Damian sat with the only man who ever gave a damn about him – his teacher, his father. And the man was at his end, cancer had seeped all his will to live. He was barely hanging on.

"Aaaaaaarghhhhh!" Ra's al Ghul screamed, as another wave of pain racked his body, making him swing like a pendulum. Damian shuddered at watching him like that, _so weak_. "T-This is the end."

"I see that," Damian's lips trembled, "I see that now."

"Do not forget your promise," his throat left dry but he still wheezed out, whimpering. Damian didn't think Ra's even knew how to whimper until a month ago, "Do not forget your promise!" Ra's fell off the bed and Damian caught him before he injured himself further.

"I won't." Damian tightly held on to the man, "You know, I won't. It's a promise I will never break."

Damian looked at his father, Ra's al Ghul. He was driven mad with pain. With bouts of sanity from time to time. He could still live for another three months – if Damian kept on feeding him his medicines.

 _What kind of life would that be?_ Damian wondered _He would just_ _be invalid. Nothing more than a breathing meat sack._

The kinder thing here was to put him out of his misery. Shirou in him understood that but he would never kill someone. Even with his dying breath – Shirou would try to save the man. That was the kind of man he was.

But saving Ra's. Was it the right thing to do? Damian didn't think so. Saving his grandfather will only set him back on the path of misery. The path which he followed for six straight centuries. It would be just another hell. And he would be responsible for it. No, Ra's deserved to die with some dignity. Damian owed him at least that much.

Ra's let out another scream. A quick swipe of Damian's hand and the scream died right there.

The sick man turned his head down to his chest. His lips trembling, and his pupils dilated.

 _You deserve to die by a sword,_ Damian's eyes glistened, his grip going slack on his sword. _So, you shall._

Ra's spat a glob of blood, and turned towards his grandson and smiled, "I-I am so proud of you…" Ra's hands trailed Damian's cheek for the first and last time.

Damian let out a silent sob.

* * *

Last few hours were a blur for Jade. She remembered running from the dojo towards Ra's chambers. Running as fast as her feet would allow her. That last scream. The last bone-chilling scream. She was never going to forget that. Something had gone wrong – horribly wrong. She just hoped that it wasn't what she thought.

She wasn't wrong. For once in her life – she wasn't. It broke her heart.

When she finally reached them, Damian was holding on to Ra's sobbing like the boy he was. His sword stained crimson with his own teacher's blood. The person who was like a father to him laid dead in his arms. For the first time, Damian didn't feel all powerful. _He seemed so young..._

Jade embraced him. She hadn't done that for anyone in a _long long_ time.

"Jade, are you coming with me?" Damian asked, leaning on the door frame.

"To the funeral?"

Damian nodded, "It's better to do it as soon as possible."

Jade got up and followed him, staying few steps behind him all the time. She wanted to ask whether he was okay but it would be a stupid question – he wasn't. This affected him, and most probably would scar him forever. For his first kill to be someone who was this close to him. She couldn't imagine the pain.

Jade had to climb for at least an hour before she reached the top of the hill. Looking down from the snowy mountain, Jade came to a solid conclusion – it was _beautiful_. Just vast and vast space of pure wilderness and no civilization in sight.

She turned towards the pyre and noticed that Ra's al Ghul's withered body was already placed there. He looked nothing like a warrior just another dead man. Jade wrapped her hands around herself. The chill of the night seemed to have a bite today.

Damian lit a single stick on fire and placed it on the pyre. In a minute, the entire thing lit up like a bonfire. Both Jade and Damian watched the pyre burn until it ate away the entirety of the previous Head of the Demon.

"How are you holding up?" Jade cringed. She promised herself that she wouldn't ask but she did it anyway. She wanted to know.

Damian raised an eyebrow, and Jade cringed harder, "Considering everything, I am as good as the circumstances allow me."

"I see," Jade squirmed, "What now?" _Just_ _like I thought, stupid question!_

"We go to Gotham." Damian looked at her without wavering.

"What!?" _You really_ _want to do this now!_

"We go to Gotham."

Jade sighed, her shoulders slumped, "Why Gotham? You realize that you haven't convinced me yet." She didn't want to do this. It was too soon.

Damien smiled but it didn't seem to reach his eyes, "I promised that I would make you a believer and I intend to do it tonight. I have ignored you enough for the past two months… I'm sorry about that."

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Jade looked down, her face softened, "Look, You are not thinking straight. How could you? You just lost someone who was very close to you."

"He was actually my grandfather," Damian choked, "He was my blood."

Jade glanced at the burning pyre once again, she didn't know what to say. What could anyone say to kin slaying? "I-I am so sorry. I always thought that he was just a teacher who was also a father to you. I never thought that you were related." Which made the entire act all the more torturous as far as Jade was concerned.

"There is nothing to be sorry off." Damian grabbed Jade shoulders, giving it a small tug, "You weren't the one who killed him. It was me. _I did it… and it will haunt me for the rest of my life."_

"It wasn't your fault either," Jade closed the distance and hugged the shorter boy, "He was dying. We both knew it. Letting him live any longer would've been nothing short of cruel. It was mercy – I just wish that I was the one who did the deed. I could've at least spared you the pain. No one should have to kill their own family…" _Especially as the first kill._

Damian moved away from her embrace, and looked her in the eye, "I would never allow you to do something like that. Never. He was my grandfather. My teacher. If you were the one to kill him it would've been an insult. So, you don't have to beat yourself up over it. _Let this be my sin."_

"I understand." Jade did in a weird way. She understood how Damian saw the entire thing. For him, it wasn't just granting mercy but also his _responsibility_. His responsibility to the man who cared for him for more than a decade.

"You do?" Damian looked surprised.

"I do."

"Thanks, Jade." Damian turned his back on Jade, staring at the pyre looking at what was lost to him. "You asked me why Gotham… It's because Ra's told me Gotham was my home. I've never really had a home before. Even after staying years here, this place was nothing more than a dojo. A place to train but never a home."

"It's not much of a home," Jade grabbed his shoulders and turned him so that she could see his eyes, "If there exists a map of hell on this planet – I'm pretty sure it would be quite similar to that of Gotham. That place brings the worst out of people."

"All the more reason I should go back," Damian's lips thinned, "All the more reason I want you to come with me. You know things about the seedier part of our society better than me. _I need you_ …"

Jade let out a long sigh, "How are you going to do that? How can one man make the world a better place?"

"They can't."

Jade blinked, "So you understand!"

"I said you're right." Damian replied as Jade gave him a puzzled look. "You're right one man can't do much. All this time you talked about me not having any allies and I thought a lot about it. I pondered for the last two months… and I realized that we need allies – very powerful allies."

"How are you going to do that?" Jade crossed her arms, amused. "I don't have many of those. Even if I did they would never agree with any of your plans."

"Not to mention they wouldn't be trustworthy." Quipped Damian.

"Exactly!" Jade cried, "So how are you going to do this?"

Damian smirked, and Jade felt a shiver run down her entire body. She wasn't sure whether it was the chill in the air. Or power which seemed to beradiate from the boy in front her, "Are you ready to be a believer, Jade?"

* * *

Damian closed his eyes and let himself fall into the abyss of the vast power which resided within him. The power which created this universe. The power which created _every_ universe. Nothing short of the power of God. The Presence.

Damian's lips trembled. A small sigh escaped him as he tried to comprehend the sheer vastness of it. _I can't lose myself here,_ he thought, _I need to find the source. That is the key to everything!_

He couldn't see it. It wasn't here! The thing he needed most if he ever wanted to succeed in his goals. Not finding it wasn't an option!

Damian allowed himself to fall deeper, and deeper. _I won't fail,_ he thought _,_ gritting his teeth, _I can't fail – not here, not ever!_ He searched for it even as the power tried to invade his mind. His soul. His being. Damian didn't stop! A single line of blood came out of his nose… and then he saw it.

The thing for which every magus would sell their very soul. Damian never understood them, neither did Shirou. The things they were willing to do to for a single glance. The atrocities they would commit in its name.

But now he did. He understood why someone would be willing to go that far. It was beautiful. His eyes glistened in tears as he stared into the root of all magic – as he stared into the… _Akashic Records._

Knowledge. Dangerous knowledge flowed into his mind like a tidal wave. He held on for what felt like ages… holding the barrier between his mind and his soul. And it passed away so did his connection with the power. However, the knowledge remained.

Damian's eyes opened, glowing green with power. He stared into Jade who looked at him in abject shock. Everything was floating around her. The snow, rubble, stones, fire from the pyre. A storm seemed to have been taken over the entire hill. Engulfing them in a blanket.

Now, Damian knew what he had to do. He looked at the starry sky. There was no grail in this world. So, he simply made it. The magic in this world was different. So, he simply repurposed it. It was all _soo_ easy.

He stared into Jade, whose eyes didn't leave him. Not even for a second. The awe was clear. Even as golden lights took over her senses. They stared into each other neither taking a step back.

 _ **Let silver and steel be the essence.**_

 _ **Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.**_

 _ **Let black be the colour I pay tribute to.**_

 _ **Let rise a wall against the wind that shall**_ _**fall.**_

 _ **Let the four cardinal gates close.**_

 _ **Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.**_

* * *

"Sekans Mrofsnart!"

Giovanni Zatara smiled as his little daughter who wasn't so little anymore turned some ropes into venom spitting cobras, and then turned them back into ropes. He gazed at her, with a forlorn expression. Magic was a wonderful thing, that was something Giovanni agreed with every fiber of his being.

That was why he did the magic shows with his daughter. The laugh, the delight, the suspense from the audience were as real as emotions got. It also helped that it brought a lot of money. Magic was wonderful.

However, there was a side to it which was just as dark. And sooner or later he would have to introduce his daughter to the darker side. Being his daughter, it was necessary.

In his stint as the member of the Justice League, he had made too many enemies. Zatanna not knowing the crueller part of magic would be nothing short of incompetence on his part. The kind of incompetence which would get his daughter killed at best or at worse…. Giovanni shuddered. Magic can be used to do inhumane acts.

However, the second he did that she would lose her innocence.

"You have to do this sooner or later." A voice said, with a thick British accent, "So, get on with it! Catch my drift, mate?"

"Constantine." Giovanni rubbed his forehead _. Out of all the people I just_ _had to call him!_

"You can take your time Giovanni," Jason Blood directed a poisonous look at Constantine, "I understand this must be difficult for you."

"Not everybody can live forever like you Blood!" Constantine snarled, lighting up his cigarette, "So, get on with it mate! Me gotta world to save!"

"You're an unrepentant bastard, Constantine!" Jason replied trying his best to hold the demon back.

"I am not the nicest bloke." Constantine grinned, "But I do me best."

Giovanni felt like turning both of them into some prehistoric insects but a scream gave him a pause. His daughter's scream.

And then he felt it… the magic. He screamed too. His pupils dilated under the strain and his feet gave out. He panted as he turned towards Constantine and Jason Blood. They were screaming too. It was like somebody summoned a god class demon!

Another wave of pain went through him, and he fell unconscious so did everyone else who had magic coursing through their veins.

* * *

 _ **Let it be declared**_ _**now;**_

 _ **your flesh shall**_ _**serve under me, and my fate shall**_ _**be with your sword.**_

 _ **Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail.**_

 _ **Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth.**_

Jade watches in awe as pure power seemed to radiate with each phrase Damian seemed to utter. Was this sorcery? She was aware of magic. Had even seen it. But nothing like the one Damian was doing right now! Magic was just throwing fireball right!?

The night sky gained a golden hue as if the heavens were looking down upon them. Jade didn't look away. She didn't think she could even if she tried. Seven golden circles singed the grass behind Damian's feet. _Something is coming!_

 _ **An oath shall**_ _**be sworn here.**_

 _ **I shall**_ _**attain**_ _**all virtues of all of**_ _**Heaven;**_

 _ **I shall**_ _**have dominion over all evils of all of**_ _**Hell.**_

 _ **From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,**_

 _ **come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!**_

A violent shockwave parted the clouds in the sky. Trees swung like twigs. Stones flew like cannon balls and the Great Ra's pyre blew away into ashes. Jade would've been blown away too if not for a hand catching her. Damian's hand.

The storm passed away and she looked at Damian wondering just how much he was holding back in each of their spars. Then she looked behind him.

There were seven of them. One look and she knew all the people behind him were something more than humans. They had an aura of majesty which nobody else could obtain.

 _Are you a believer?_


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter - 3**

 _ **Motou, Tibet.**_

A javelin landed with a slight thump. Scorching the grass underneath it with its thrusters. Not even a minute later, another bat-themed flying object followed suit. The slick British occult detective was the first one to get out. Followed by his unwilling partner in crime Jason Blood – the host of the rhyming demon, Etrigan.

Soon, the rest of the team followed. The members of the Justice League – Wonder Woman, Flash, and the magician of the league Giovanni Zatara. Each walking with a gait unique to their own.

"Oh… man," Flash said, "That was so slow!"

Wonder Woman shook her head. Her black tresses tumbling over her face like a curtain, "You always say that Flash."

"Just because I do, doesn't make it any less true." Flash sniffed, "I would've made it faster here if I ran, _wonder babe_."

Diana's eyes narrowed, her eyebrows twitching. She never liked to be addressed like that, and today she planned to teach her fast friend a much-needed lesson in manners. He could clearly use some.

"Let's move Diana." Diana huffed when she heard the gruff voice of Batman. She turned towards Flash with a glower. _Next time, Barry._ she thinks, _Next time._

"Where to Zatara?" Batman asked, his eyes taking in every sight, "We are in one of the most remote places on Earth. I don't like this."

"You don't like anything." Flash quipped.

"The magic is so thick up here…" Giovanni shuddered, feeling his follicles raise.

Constantine frowned, "You can feel it in the very air." He lit another cigarette and took a long whiff, "We're already a day behind. I bet we're not the only one looking for whoever did this. We waste any more time and we'll have some nasty blokes up our arse."

"Then we make haste." Diana cut in, realizing that Bruce was losing his mind. Especially, the way he was grinding his teeth. _Batman hated magic._ To him, it was nothing but conjured up fantasies of children.

"So where to? Just point me in the direction." Flash grinned, "I bet I will be there first."

"The focal point of the magic appears to be coming from that hill up there –" Giovanni replied.

"Great! See ya' slow pokes later!"

Jason Blood sighed, "He should've waited. It's too dangerous, we don't know what we're dealing with."

"Tch!" Constantine clicked his tongue, "You would've better luck at making pigs fly, mate! Let's move before he gets himself killed."

Wonder Woman smiled and flew towards the hill. Batman followed her, using his grappling hook to keep up with her. Giovanni muttered his own incantation as he also flew into the sky – leaving only Constantine and Jason Blood behind.

"So, can you fly?" Constantine turned towards Jason.

* * *

"What do you think?" Giovanni asked, "This seems more like your area of expertise."

Constantine grit his teeth, "Don't look like any magic I've ever seen."

"It's certainly not demonic." Jason added, "Etrigan would've known if there was even a hint of it. In fact, I would say – no, never mind." Jason shook his hands.

"Tell us whatever you think you know," Batman's eyes narrowed. "What happened here was enough to create a localized electromagnetic storm which lasted for more than twenty-four hours. All of our technology was rendered _useless_."

"No, it's just Etrigan hates it here," Jason cut into the tirade, "If I didn't know better I would say the magic here has divine traces to it. It's making him _restless._ "

"Should we be worried?" Giovanni asked.

"Maybe I should make myself scarce."

"Maybe you should." Replied Giovanni, "The last thing we need is for you to feel uncomfortable."

"Good luck, my friend." Jason disappeared into a golden light.

"Well, he was awfully quick to disappear." Constantine drawled.

"Maybe your company just didn't agree with him." Zatara added with a quirk to his lips.

"Everybody loves my company."

"You would like to think that," Giovanni replied with a smile, "Wouldn't you?"

"Have you got anything?" Batman asked. He had been watching Constantine the entire time. The man seemed to be on edge since the moment he was on top of this hill.

"Nah, I got nothing." Constantine replied, waving his hand, "I think I will also take my leave. Nothing for me to do here." A shimmering house appeared behind him and he went inside before anyone could stop him.

 _He knows something,_ thought Zatara. _What spooked you, John?_

"Well, that was an absolute waste of our time." Flash snorted. "I at the least managed to gain some evidence here. All through the power of science – no hocus-pocus here!"

"What did you find?" Batman grit his teeth, staring into the house which seemed to have vanished into thin air. _He hated magic!_

"Well there was a house few miles from here – the only one in the area, but it's burned to the ground." Flash replied, "Someone was in a hurry."

"Nothing? You didn't find anything?"

"They were really thorough." Flash said, "But they left quite a bit of evidence here… where they performed their _so-called_ ritual." He almost rolled his eyes.

Batman frowned in deep thought. He trusted Barry's intuition considering his day job as a forensic analyst but there was something really wrong with this place. It put his instincts in overdrive. Instincts which allowed him to survive this long in a business where almost all of his opponents were physically superior to him.

"For instance, there were nine people here. I am sure about that." Flash continued, "But their gender not so much. If I would take a guess, I think there were five men and four women."

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Wonder Women asked from behind.

"I looked at shoe prints they left on the snow…" Flash rubbed his chin, "But here's the thing some of the shoes are of really old variety. Like the ones which are either worn by people in a theatre or by some of your people." Flash said directing a pointed look at the Amazonian woman.

"Are you trying to say an Amazonian was responsible for this?" Diana smacked her lips.

"Hey! All I am saying is I don't know." Flash raised his arms in surrender, "But the possibility remains. Not to mention somebody was burned here – hopefully, not alive. I tried to get some DNA but all of it is ashes now!"

"Jason did say the magic here might have divine origins." Batman replied with an even tone, "Amazonians does have divine blood in them…"

Diana grit her teeth, _You too Bruce!_

"I'm afraid that's not the case." Giovanni replied, his grip on the cane tightening while Diana let out a relieved sigh.

"Why do you think that?" Batman asked.

"The magic here is not fully matured yet. It lacks the crispness of a sorcerer who has been using magic for a long time. I would say it's done by someone who's still inexperienced in the arts of sorcery." Giovanni licked his tongue.

"Are you saying a kid was responsible for a storm like that?" Flash's eyes widened.

"I wouldn't say a kid maybe a teenager." Giovanni swallowed his spit, "He or She did this without using a single catalyst. I don't know a single sorcerer who's capable of doing a ritual strong enough that it would resonate with every magician in this world. Really, the amount of magic used here is downright wasteful." Zatara took a deep breath, "We need to find this person as fast as we could. He's a danger to himself and the rest of the world if he doesn't learn to control his own power."

"Is it that bad?" Flash gulped.

"From what I've seen, I would say this was some form of summoning ritual which bordered on resurrection… and from the looks of it, he _succeeded_. God knows, what else he can do? Do we really want to risk this?"

"Can you search for him using your special methods?" Batman asked, not liking where all this was going.

"If you mean scrying, then yes." Giovanni's grip on his can tightened, "And hopefully we find him before others do…"

"And if we're not able to?"

"I don't know."

* * *

 _ **East End, Gotham.**_

Damian's eyes roamed through the city. The city which was supposed to be his home – he almost gagged at the very thought. There was crime in every corner of this city. But even among Gotham, _Park Row_ was considered special. It was the crown jewel of this city – infamous, to its very core. Also known as _Crime Alley_ by the locals.

As far as Damian considered, it was a fitting name. Sex trafficking, human trafficking, kidnapping, drugs, prostitution, child porn – you name it and you would find it here. This was the place which exported despair and hopelessness whole over American continent.

And the sad part, everyone took part in it equally. From the poor to the rich, from the police to the crook – all of them were beneficiaries of the system. A system specifically created to exploit the weak. If the Anti-Christ was real, he would be living in the Crime Alley. It was either this or the Wall Street, as Jade would say.

Damian's nose recoiled as the smell of sex and rampant hedonism hit him like a brick. Like a miasma seeping into his being – asking him, to do things which he would otherwise never even think off. The perpetual cold dank weather of Gotham didn't help matters either.

"This place is vile… Shirou." A regal voice spoke and Damian agreed.

He looked at the woman with dilated eyes. With her, it was always like this. He seemed to lose his mind around her. He could use losing some of his mind here, 'But it is still home.'

She turned at him, her eyes staring into his own like daggers, "What am I doing here? It has already been two weeks and yet all you do is stare at me."

Damian colored, "I-I'm sorry. It's just I never expected to see you again, _Saber._ "

"You look different." Saber's eyes softened, "The Shirou I knew was nowhere near powerful enough to support seven servants at their full power. He could barely support me in the last war; but now your mana is so dense and powerful… What happened Shirou?" She caught him by his shoulders.

"I don't even know where to begin Arturia." Damian shook his head, his heart shrivelling in his chest, "Even I am not sure what's happening to me. But whatever it is, it has allowed us to meet again. Isn't that enough for now?"

"For now, perhaps I shall cherish it." Arturia smiled, one of her hand resting on her hips, "But sooner or later, you will tell me, wouldn't you?"

Damian raised his arms in surrender. He sometimes forgot how intimidating Saber could be. "I could never lie to you. _I never will._ I will tell you everything once I have figured it out for myself."

Then they started walking again, and Damian's eyes wandered over her once again.

Even after all these years, she was still shining. Still, the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on. Sometimes he wondered how anyone could ever mistake her for a man. She was _beautiful_ … Even while wearing a cloak she attracted so much attention.

"How do you still remember me? How did you even recognize me?" Damian's fists curled, "The grail I created was only supposed to bring representations of actual heroes. You are anything but that."

"I am different from other servants. Nothing could ever represent me but me." Arturia's lips quirked, " _And I would never forget you._ "

Damian choked on his breath. Rendered speechless.

He was almost glad when something like a little missile hit him straight in his abs.

"Oof!" the voice cried, "What in the fucking hell's your body made of, ya' retard!?"

Damian blinked, under the sudden vitriol of a little girl. Not to mention the crassness. He didn't think five-year-old girls could have such a nasty mouth, "Apologies, madam." Nevertheless, he maintained his manners.

"Did you just call me, madam!? Ya' dip shit!" the little girl flipped off.

Saber's brows twitched. She snatched the little girl up from the nape of her dress. Lifting her like a sack of potatoes, "Clearly, the lady needs to learn some manners."

"Put me down, ya' golden-haired cunt!"

Damian could feel Saber's patience snap like a twig. He grabbed the girl from her arms before Saber could give the brat her much deserved spanking, "I'm sorry I should've watched where I walked."

The girl sniffed, rolling her sleeves, "Ya' all better be. I say ya' guys barely escaped a beating. That's what I say."

Damian smiled as he watched the little firecracker walk away. Stomping her feet.

'Even kids here are a piece of work." Arturia muttered.

"Kids are the product of the society." Damian said, "They are only as good as the adults they are surrounded by."

"That's no excuse." Arturia's eyes hardened, "While as bad as this place is, my Britain was worse. We lived in a time of war, surrounded by Saxons and Celtics. The only reason we made it so far was because we refused to compromise on our ideals. No matter how personal the cost. We showed kindness in the face of cruelty, honor in face of treachery. Even in most trying of circumstances."

" _We had nothing so we made something._ " She finished with pursed lips.

Damian wanted to say that these people were no different either. That they could be kind too, that they could be merciful too – all they needed was a chance. A chance which they never got. But he couldn't.

Because he heard a mirthful chuckle coming from a bum in the alleyway – few yards away. He was grinning at them like a loon. Damian felt a sense of apprehension grip him. Even Saber noticed the guy.

"What's so funny?" Damian asked.

The bum's grin widened as he showed off his rotting teeth. His eyes roamed over Damian before they reached Saber, "I'll tell ya' if ya' give me somethin'."

The bum's eyes had yet to leave Arturia. Damian frowned, "How about fifty dollars?"

This time the bum openly cackled, "Ya' two are really not from around here, are ya'?"

"Say your piece already before I lose my patience." Saber growled, tired of the lecherous look she had been receiving.

"I really like the coat ya' are wearin'?" the bum looked at Damian.

"Well, it's your if you tell me what you found so funny?"

"Ya' were just robbed blind by that little girly and ya' have yet to realize it."

Damian's eyes widened, his hands reaching for his pockets in a frenzy. It wasn't there! That damn brat stole his wallet! It wouldn't be such a big deal if the wallet didn't also contain his father's inheritance. The money, the other safehouses all depended on it. And like an idiot he let a little girl outsmart him!

He dropped his coat and ran, Saber followed him. Her face twisted in a grimace as the bum laughed like a maniac behind him.

 _Just_ _great!_

* * *

Lacy Brown grinned. Today, she hit the fucking jackpot. Her palm felt sweaty with the weight of the wallet. She was never one for stealing but if the opportunity presented herself she wasn't one to shy away. Especially, when it was just a stupid old boy and his golden-haired cunt. She snickered.

Life was tough here in the Park Row. Not taking advantage of a given opportunity could cost someone their life. Most of the time, it was the difference between having a meal on the table or going hungry at night. Even at five years, she knew that.

She often saw children, street rats who didn't have anyone to look out for them. Kids her age, stupid beyond measure. Not like her – she was _brilliant_. Her mother said so or she did when she was lucid which was a few in between. These street rats! One act of kindness from an adult and they follow them like puppies. Only to never return, and if they did they often come back crying or just broken. Lacy shuddered.

Lacy's parents they weren't perfect or a good role model. But they at least made sure that she had a roof to stay under which was more than what other children got. That's what she always did, she might've had it rough but others had it worse. So, it was okay.

Her mother was a whore and a crack addict. While her father was a drunk and a common labor who would come home late at night and beat them to near death. His belly still sloshing with the alcohol he drank on the way.

This was her life. She hated it. Someday she wondered why she even stayed. But where else would she go? If she ever had the courage to venture out then she would be nothing more than a common street rat. _And that would be the worst._

She finally made it home, her step slow and cautious lest she wake her parents. It could barely be called a home – it was more of a slum that the landlord rented at very exorbitant rates. Barely any space to even turn. It smelled of piss, sweat and rotten garbage. This was Gotham at its finest.

"You bitch! I work every day till my bones are dust and what do I find when I come home!?" Lacy flinched when she heard the echo of flesh hitting flesh, "My own wife riding some other man's dick on my bed!"

 _Ouch!_ She thought. _They are at it again._

"Well unlike you, he could actually get it up!" the woman screamed, "I would like to fuck a _man_ for a change!"

"Aaaargh! I'll show you a man!" another smacking sound and Lacy slowly made her way inside. Praying that they wouldn't notice her. They didn't.

"Just look at you! Who would even pay to fuck you?" the man slapped the woman hard enough that she flew into the couch like a pinball.

"More people than you! You dickless-bastard!" she sneered even through the obvious pain.

Lacy saw her father eyes turn bloodshot. She squirmed, as rage like never before took over the man. She never saw him like this. There were days when he would be angry. There were days when he would come home smelling like a bar but she had never seen him so angry.

He looked murderous.

The first fist flew. Lacy saw her mother's jaw broke as teeth flew out.

The second fist came just as fast. So, did the third. So, did the fourth. It didn't stop. Blood splattered onto her father's face like a leaky faucet. Enough to blind him but he didn't stop.

Lacy whimpered, not used to this kind of brutality. She realized for the first time how strong a man could be. Especially, someone who did hard labor every day. In her school, her P.E. teacher would often tell her that a man had twice the upper body strength than a woman.

As a brilliant girl, she realized that a man could carry more weight. Now, she realized that also meant a man could put more force behind his punches. She wanted to move, save her mother. But her feet wouldn't take a single step. _Was this fear?_

Lacy watched as her mother's body stopped twitching but her father still rained down with no mercy. He was too far gone. Lacy vomited.

After giving one final punch, he looked at her. He was struggling to take a breath, sweat coated his entire body. He was exhausted but the madness was still there.

"Who's the man now, bitch?" He slurred at the now dead woman. "Lacy, you saw everything, didn't you? I always told her to stop her nasty business but would she listen! NO! she never did. I didn't want to do this… I didn't, you believe me don't you, Lacy?" he extended his hand. Oddly vulnerable.

Lacy backed away as if she was scalded.

The man's eyes turned hard, "Are you even mine? Maybe you're just some kid she had with one of the men she fucked. It wouldn't be the first time she cuckolded me…"

Lacy ran, but her father was bigger and faster. He caught up to her and slammed her on the floor – driving the breath out of her. Two hands started choking her. She struggled, she kicked, punched but when a grown woman had no chance then what could a five-year-old have.

She felt black-spots invade her vision, and her lungs burned with the lack of air. With the last of her strength, she looked toward her mother. She was nothing more than bruised meat, and there was so much blood. Was it all from her mother? Can a person even have that much blood in them?

 _NO! NO!_ She wasn't going to become like her mother. She wasn't going to become a victim. With last of her strength, she grabbed the pocket knife from her skirt. And with a final heave, she stabbed it straight into her father's neck.

Nobody ever realizes just how much blood pumps through the carotid artery, the so-called jugular vein. Lacy didn't realize it either until she was literally gagging in it. Her father's hand slackened on her neck – losing all strength.

She greedily gasped for air, oxygen filled her lungs with relief. Then she turned towards her father who looked at her with wide eyes – disbelief clear in them. He twitched for the last few times, like a fish taken out of the ocean. That dead stare was going to stay with her for the rest of the life.

Her mother always said it was always a woman's job to protect herself. No man would do that for her. With that she gave her a pocket knife – she was only three years old. A time when you trusted adults without any question.

The same knife she carried with her all time. The knife she used to kill her own father who killed her mother in a drunken fit of rage. In a span of few minutes, her entire world came down on her. Now she was nothing more than the street rats she made fun off.

Now no one had it worse than her. She screamed… _today she hit the jackpot._

The last thing she remembered was a figure coming in and his two arms holding her close. Everything went black for her, but even then, she didn't stop screaming.

* * *

Leslie Thompkins was a doctor. A disgraced one but still a doctor with an ivy league institute degree and with decades of experience behind her. Years went by and things happened and before she could blink she was left with nothing. Typical rags-to-riches to back to rags story.

She didn't let that get her down. When left with not even a single dollar to her name she returned to her roots. She returned back to the place she was born. The place she fought tooth and nails to get away from. She still had her medical license. The only thing she managed to keep from her highbrow days.

Just like that, she opened a small clinic, and she was glad for it. This place somehow turned worse in her absence. She didn't think it possible. All the clinics here were too costly for common people to even think about going to a doctor. The people here barely had money to waste on food let alone insurance.

So, her clinic provided the cheap alternative. The only alternative for many. She charged peanuts for her service and gave the best care possible for that money. Before she knew it, her little clinic became famous enough that she was busy even at night.

Some might say her business got profitable at night. Her night patients included the nefarious sorts. Mobsters, gang-bangers, pimps, _vigilantes_ – the kind who would pay a fortune to stay out of the system. The kind of money which allowed her to run her morning practice.

Needless to say, for a woman in her mid-fifties she had seen quite a lot – enough to last a lifetime. That was the thing about Gotham just when you think you know everything; something comes and bites you straight in the arse.

So, when a young boy came to her clinic with a little girl in his hands soaked in blood. She didn't question. When a young woman too beautiful to be from the slums followed behind the boy like his guard dog – she didn't question.

When the young boy asked for her help – she didn't question. She got off her arse and started treating the young girl. Just one look and she knew something horrible happened. The sad part, this wouldn't be the last time nor was this the first.

This was Gotham. Misery was its middle name.

* * *

"Is she going to be okay?" Damian glanced at the old woman wearing a crisp lab coat. "We didn't know where else to go."

"If you mean physically then yes she will make a full recovery – only her epiglottis was sore. At best she won't be able to speak properly for a few days."

"That's great." Damian sat down on the chair, "I was really worried."

"What happened?" Leslie asked, "The little girl has strangulation marks on her neck. Somebody tried to kill her. Did you call the police?"

"They said that you didn't ask questions." Saber's muffled voice spoke.

"I don't as long as you're from the mob."

"Why? Not hot enough to be a gang-banger. Please don't say that I am not black enough." Damian joked, but the humor didn't reach his eyes.

"The mob in Gotham doesn't differentiate on color."

"Well, it's good to know that they are so progressive minded." Damian snickered, "Don't tell me I'm too young to be a mobster."

" _There have been younger._ "

Just like that, the mood in the clinic turned somber. Damian sagged into the chair in quiet disbelief and even Saber stiffened.

"You and your little lady friend are not from around here, are you?" Leslie's eye softened as she saw genuine heartbreak on his face.

"Is it that obvious?" Damian asked, "Since the moment I came here everybody seems to say that to me."

"Why don't you tell me what happened young man?" Leslie sat beside him, all this was too familiar to her. This kind of reminded her of the time when she treated a young Batman. She didn't want something like that to happen again.

Damian told her, all of it. And he knew all of it. Of what Lacy did. The act of was too close to his heart – the act of killing one's father. One look at her pocket knife and he knew all of it. Sometimes he hated his ability.

"You are really not from around here." Leslie reiterated, this time with far more conviction.

"You said that before." Damian's lips quirked, "What is so different about me?"

"Normal people don't have a bodyguard walking around with them."

"She refuses to leave my side."

"Because if I do you would get into trouble." Saber sniffed, turning herself away from him.

"I still seem to get into them just fine even with your help."

"Would you rather be alone without my assistance?"

"Never. Your assistance is always welcome."

Leslie watched their byplay with a frown. She noticed the familiarity between them. The ease with which they talked to each other, the fondness. If she didn't know any better, she would say they were friends… or lovers rather than the brother-sister bond she assumed.

"People in Gotham they generally don't help people, in general, let alone people who steal from them."

Damian's emerald eyes stalked Leslie, "She is just a child. A child who went through something so traumatic that it would never leave her for her entire life. Why wouldn't anyone help her?"

"Not in Gotham. Not here." Leslie shook her head, not relenting under the young boy's surprisingly heavy stare. "While what happened to the girl was tragic, she's just one of the many. She won't be the last one."

"Why is it like this here? Are things really so bad?"

"They are worse. They have been like this since even before my time."

"Why is nobody doing anything about this? This place is a hellhole and it's like nobody even cares."

"It's because they don't. People would rather turn away than see the failings of the society."

Damian grit his teeth, "Why are the police not doing anything? There's rampant crime in every damn corner."

Leslie chuckled, "It's because they are not the one who own this city. This city belongs to the Falcones, the Bertinellis, the Vittis, the Irish. It belongs to the mob. They own everything worth owning in Gotham – the police, the mayor, the municipals, the senators. Everything."

"I thought Batman owned this city! What is he doing? Does he not see this!?"

"You have no idea just how much he has done for Gotham. The sacrifices he made… the day he disappears is the day this city goes to hell. He's the only one which is keeping the worst of Gotham at bay. So, don't talk shit until you're willing to do something about it."

Damian snarled and walked out.

"Where are you going kid?" Leslie sighed, palming her forehead, "Don't do something stupid. You are too young to involve yourself in something like this. This sucks, but this is just life."

"No, this is not life. _This is not okay_." Damian stopped, "Nothing that happened today should've happened. But you were right if I'm not going to do something about it then I shouldn't complain."

Jesus! She couldn't believe this! It was happening all over again.

"What are you like twelve or thirteen? What can you do that can bring change?"

"Something. Anything to make a difference." Damian replied, "And like you said – _there have been younger._ "

Leslie wanted to slam her head on the wall. Great there was going to be another vigilante! That is if the kid lived that long.

"What about the kid you brought in?" asked Leslie, "This is not charity. I've treated her for now but I can't take care of her forever."

"I will come for her tomorrow," Damian replied and moved out of the dingy clinic. "Enough adults in her life have disappointed her. I won't be another."

 _You are not an adult either,_ Leslie thought staring at the back of the young boy as he walked away with a purpose.

She sighed and turned towards the woman in the hood, "Make sure he doesn't get into something he can't get out of."

The woman simply smiled and walked out.

* * *

"What now?" Saber asked, her eyes not leaving Shirou. A sense of quiet anger seemed to surround him. She was fascinated. She never though Shirou of all was capable of it.

"We go to the Depository Bank of Gotham in the financial district." Damian replied with a curt tone, "So, you can ditch that hood. It will only attract attention there."

"I didn't mean that." Saber snorted. She already knew that it was what they ventured out of their temporary hideout in the first place.

"After that, we will get papers for all the servants including you, and then we will shift into one of the permanent hideouts."

"You are avoiding the question." Saber pursed her lips, "You seem to do that a lot since you brought me back."

"Did you hear what she said?" Damian took a deep breath, "The mob controls everything. They own everything worth owning in Gotham. That is what she said."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Is it not obvious?" Damian replied, " _We are going to own the mob._ "

Saber gave a hard stare, "The Shirou I knew would never suggest something like that."

"We have to take action." Damian's chest tightened, "How many more Lacy Brown's does there need to be before we do something about it. How many children need to go through this?"

"I am not arguing on that. You should already know my feelings on the matter." Saber replied, "I question about the way you intend to go about it."

"Saber, Lacey's parents they weren't evil or malicious. They weren't any of the countless super-villain Gotham harbors. They were normal people who turned into animals due to harsh circumstances. What happened today is happening right now somewhere in another part of the town. Somewhere there is another kid being orphaned.

"If it was just an evil man then it would be easy. There would be nothing messy about it. We could end it just by stabbing a blade through their chest. But it isn't so simple! If anything, I've learned today is that things are going to be a whole lot messier before they get better."

"You've changed… Shirou."

"I am no longer the same man which I once was." Damian choked, his chest tightening, "Do you hate me?" He hated how vulnerable he sounded.

"No. I don't." Saber shook her head, her blonde tresses shining in the moonlight, "I am just surprised."

Silence pervaded, even as they made their way to the subway.

"I am no longer the Shirou you once knew. He is just one of the many lives I once lived…"

"I realize that now, Shirou." Saber muttered.

"Yet you still call me by that name."

"Because something tells me despite everything you and I still share the same ideals."

Damian could only stare at her – again rendered speechless by her. He chuckled and then he laughed.

"What is it?" Saber growled, her cheeks colored.

"It's just I never summoned any servants." Saber knit her brows as Damian continued, "When I made the Grail I knew I had no need to summon servants. I had enough mana inside me to force a miracle. So that is what I did. I filled it with enough mana to force myself a wish…"

"What did you wish for?" Saber asked, taken aback by the sheer power required to do something like that.

Damian grinned wide, "I wished for heroes who would help me build a world where Arturia would never have to pick up a sword. A place where people could do good and not be punished for it. All I had to do was give the grail a nudge… so I chanted the aria for summoning. Making my intentions clear."

"I see…" Saber turned her eyes away, lest Shirou see just how much she was affected by his gesture. "Why didn't you just ask for salvation for mankind? You could've completed your goals in an instant."

"Salvation is not something which can be wished for or given," Damian replied, "It's something which needs to be earned with toil and sweat otherwise there is no meaning to it."

"You've grown, Shirou."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter - 4**

Take control of the mob. Own the mob.

It's so easy to say, and yet so hard to accomplish. Gotham was a cesspool of crime. So, it would make sense that there would be countless criminals interested in it. Russians, Italians, Irish, Romanian, Sicilian, Yakuza – you name it, and they all had a stake in Gotham.

Damian was going to own them. All of them. Every damn business. Every damn man – down to the last thing. He was going to wrest control of their resources and then use it to help Gotham. His plan was to hit two birds with a single stone.

Alone, it would be difficult, impossible even. But with seven servants working together nothing was out of his reach. The key factor – making them work together; which was easier said than done.

"This place stinks." A haughty voice spoke, "Hardly, a place a Queen should frequent."

"Well it's an underground basement in the old part of Gotham – I think a minor stink comes with the territory."

"Did I mention that I am a Queen?"

"You kind of did, Semiramis." Damian smiled at the regal beauty clad in a sophisticated black and gold garment.

"Then I expect you to treat me as such!" Semiramis hissed, her hands on her hip, "It has been more than two weeks and yet all you've told us are the barebones. _That's unacceptable._ " She chastised with all her authority as the Queen.

"Will you just shut your trap, woman?"

She swirled around and glared at the man with pure abhorrence, just staring at him seemed to soil her person.

"Yeah, yeah keep on glaring sweet cheeks." The man grinned with teeth, "Keep on glaring because you know you can't do nothing to me. I am not the kind of man you can poison and get away with."

Semiramis's glare turned murderous, "W-Why you? You ape–"

"Enough!" Damian screamed, "This is getting us nowhere. Stand down, Cu Chulainn and stop antagonizing my other servants. You are my Lancer, one of the knight class. Is it too much for me to ask that you act like one?"

Lancer snorted, so did Arturia. Damian wanted to palm his face, _This is going to be hell!_

"Why did you make them stop, master?" Achilles grinned from behind, "It was getting fun."

Chiron shook his head, "I must apologize, master. While I managed to teach little Achilles all there was to teach about strategy and war; it seems despite my best efforts proper decorum still eludes him."

"I am no longer little, you old man."

"Yet you still remain my student." Chiron snipped, lacking any heat, "Your shortcomings are mine own."

"There is nothing to apologize for, Archer." Damian replied, "It's comforting that at least one of my servants is able to amuse himself despite the circumstances. I only wish it wasn't at the expense of other ones."

"Then I am afraid that they must remain wishes, my master." Chiron's eyes twinkled with mirth, "Achilles was always one to disappoint when it came to matters of etiquette."

"Oy, oy, oy. Since, when did this turn into pick-up on the innocent bystander day."

"You were rarely ever an innocent bystander from what I remember."

"Things have changed from back then." Achilles replied, puffing his cheeks.

Chiron turned towards his master and gazed at him. His sight lingering on Damian. The same way it did once for Achilles, Herakles, Theseus, Jason, Perseus, and so many of his other pupils. Trying to determine their _true worth_ before he took them in. Making them realize their true potential - under his watchful eye.

A passive noble phantasm allowed him this ability– a gift from the very gods of Olympus when they saw his dedication towards his students. Chiron while a peerless warrior will always remain a teacher.

And when he saw his master, all he saw was infinity. An endlessness, which dwarfed everything around him. Damian was special. That was something he realized the very first time he laid eyes upon him. This was further proof if his summoning of seven servants wasn't enough.

But despite all this, one question seemed to plague his soul, " _Why did you bring us here, my master?_ "

* * *

Jade exhaled, the question everyone has been darting around for days. For all this time she was silent – holding her breath. Silent, since the moment these legends walked out off the very light.

Even now she had trouble believing it. _Are you a believer?_ She wished Damian had never asked. She wished she had the courage to just leave when she had the chance.

But after seeing what she had seen she would never be able to turn back. Not on this. A part of her always knew – the part which crossed swords with him for the first time. The part which despite being beaten a thousand times got back up. The part which never gave up on doing good.

Now, she felt like she was in the middle of the first meeting of Knights of the Roundtable. The craziest part; the _King of Knights_ was right beside her. Watching the proceedings with a keen eye – _and she was a woman._ She even crossed swords with her. Granted, it was more like a child trying to fight the dragon with a twig but she still did.

How many people could say that? Arturia's skill was unparalleled. Anything she faced before paled in comparison, and the woman was holding back there was no doubt about it!

 _Servants,_ that's what Damian called them. These beings whose mere presence was enough to silence her into submission and Damian called them servants. He intended these people to follow him – help him fulfill his goals; for both Gotham and the world in general. _How was he going to do that!?_

She didn't know the particulars of his so-called insane magical ritual but she managed to ferret out just enough details to realize that this was going to be difficult as hell.

Semiramis, the so-called _Assassin_ otherwise known as the Queen of Assyria. The wisest queen who led her country into an untold era of wealth and prosperity.

Cu Chulainn, the _Lancer_. The famous Irish Hero.

Chiron, the famous teacher of the equally famous Greek heroes and the _Archer_.

Achilles, the _Rider_ , and seriously who doesn't know about the tragic hero of the Trojan War. Homer immortalized this handsome bastard. And he was handsome… She wasn't a reader, in fact, she hated books but even she read _The Illiad_.

Kiyohime, the _Berserker_. She was a silent one barely spoke. She just looked at Damian with an expression which Jade couldn't quite decipher. She was the one Jade knew least about.

Archimedes, the _Caster_. The magician so to speak. He was the most dangerous one by simply being the smartest amongst all of them, and silent. This man always smiled, but the smile was mathematical, to say the least. Artificial to its core. His azure eyes seemed to linger at Damian…

Then there was Arturia Pendragon. _Saber._

Every single of them the greatest of their time. All of them with egos the size of a castle. The way they looked at each other was the way she looked at a target – something to eliminate, something to eviscerate. They didn't see each other as teammates but more akin to challengers. _But_ _challengers_ _to what?_ she wondered.

Even to get a temporary alliance here would be a win.

Her eyes turned towards Damian's arms, both of them covered with intricate tats. No, _Command Seals_ – she reminded herself. Something which will force these god-like beings to follow an instruction even against their own will.

But that wasn't an ideal solution. Damian only had twenty-one seals and if all of them decided to be uncooperative then these command seal will be gone faster than they can blink.

Now the most unassuming of them has gone and stirred the pot.

 _Why did you bring us here, my master?_

Such an innocuous question yet everything seemed to ride on it.

 _Why did you bring us here, my master?_

And like usual Damian handled with tact which was no tact at all. Jade wanted to scream, hit her head on a wall repeatedly until she was brain dead. Even then she would be smarter than Damian.

"I want to save the world."

* * *

Chiron blinked.

He looked at other servants and they seemed to be in the same boat as him. Every last one of them had a look of exasperation or pure ridiculousness as if they couldn't believe what the boy just said.

"Pardon, Will you repeat that again, my master?" asked Chiron. He had a hard time believing it too.

"I want to save the world."

He blinked again. This time staring at the young woman standing behind him who looked exasperated beyond belief.

"Maybe you would like to elaborate, my master?" asks Chiron.

"What is there to elaborate on?" Damian smiled, "I think I've made myself quite clear. I want to save the world. I want to leave it better than the state I found it in."

Semiramis laughed, her tinkering sound bouncing off the wall of the dingy basement.

Damian looks at her – the way she held her belly, the way her cat-like eyes thinned, and her ruby red lips curved up in mirth. Her beauty was as deadly as her poisons, Damian decides. One glance would be enough for anyone to fall into her ensnare. He understood why King of Assyria got so infatuated with her that he killed the woman's then-husband just so he could have her. He almost understood. Almost.

"I-I needed that." Semiramis comes down from the high, "You might not be a great master but you would certainly make for a great fool in my court."

Damian just smiles at her. There was no malice only acceptance.

Semiramis stares at him trying to find something only to come empty. She looks at Damian and realizes how serious he was, "Y-you do not jest. You are serious about this…" She didn't understand where his determination came from, "H-How could you be serious about this?" She just didn't get it! It was enough to drive her mad.

"I would never joke about something like this." Damian replies, "From here on, what we do today will affect millions across the world. We all far too powerful for the outcome to be any different. It's our duty to make sure that the change is for good."

Semiramis gaped further in disbelief.

"None of you will have the pleasure to have wishes of your own since I've already destroyed the grail. It's an artifact far too dangerous to be allowed to exist and its far too easily tainted, but I will still ask you to help me."

"Why do you need our help?" Chiron asked with pursed lips, "Power is not something you lack, my master."

"Teacher is right." Achilles eye-balled Damian, "Your mana is flowing through all of us right now. It's so powerful and dense that even mages of my time would struggle when it comes to sheer potency. _Frankly, I am itching for a battle._ " He caressed his lance.

"That's a language I understand." Cu Chulainn clicked his teeth.

"Of course, you would." Semiramis muttered, still reeling from the earlier shock.

"You are right. All of you." Damian looked away, "I have power and knowledge. I have been blessed with both and that's why I think it's my responsibility to change things for better. _But I am too green_ … my understanding of the world is rudimentary at best. If I try to do something with this power of mine there is a great chance that I will only make things worse… I am but one man. There is only so much I can do by myself."

"Hence, you brought us here. I can sympathize." Chiron finished, crossing his arms, "But still, one question remains."

"Ask away then, oh great teacher."

"All this time you said it was your _responsibility_." Chiron glared, "Don't you think that's a tad bit arrogant? What right do you have? Who gave you this responsibility?"

"Is it not mine?" Damian scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, "The way I see it; when you can do the things I can and then you don't and something bad happens because of it. Then I think you are responsible for it because you didn't take action. There could be no greater evil. Apathy is truly humanity's greatest curse."

Chiron smiled, "That is a very naïve goal you have, master."

"Maybe." Damian admitted, "But I think it's a goal worth pursuing. I might fail spectacularly. There is always that chance but to admit defeat without even giving my all is not my way."

* * *

Jade watched, as silence pervaded the basement. _What now?_ She wondered. It wasn't like she wasn't aware of Damian's goal. He told her that pretty much to her face all those months ago but never had it affected her the way it did today. Damian really believed in it. Even after seeing Gotham for what it really was he hadn't given up yet. In fact, he seemed even more determined.

She didn't belong here, among these heroes. She was an assassin, a common mercenary. There were dozens like her but Damian believed in her. It was a long time since anyone did that. So, she stayed and watched as her heartbeat increased.

 _This is it!_ She thought. Everything depended on this.

Chiron kneeled, in front of Damian like the warriors of the old, Jade gasped, "My wish was to regain my immortality so I could train young warriors who have great burdens thrust upon them, and it seems like today I have gained two of them."

"Two?" Jade asked.

"I shall guide you too, Lady Nguyen."

Jade gaped, _I am going to be trained by_ _the man who taught Hercules!_ She kept on repeating in her head. Trying to make sense of what was happening right in front of her.

Damian lips quirked when he saw the fish out of water look Jade sported even Saber seemed amused by her reaction, "Your guidance is most welcome especially the times that are to come."

Achilles kneeled beside his once teacher and smiled, "My whole life has been war since the very day I was born. I have seen men at their worst. My destiny left no other option. So, peace is a goal I will gladly dedicate my sword too. Use me as you will, my master."

Damian nodded.

"I am one of the knights. You already have my loyalty." Cu Chulainn replied and then he grinned, "And I bet if I stay with you there will be plenty of fights to partake in. All the more reason to stick around." And he kneeled too.

Damian turned towards one person who has been silent all this time, his berserker – Kiyohime, "I will follow you into the depths of very hell." He shuddered. This was going to be a problem.

"If you think I will kneel then you've another thing coming." Semiramis stuck her nose up, crossing her arms, "But I will stick around."

Damian nodded, exactly what he expected from her.

Then he looked at the man who has been silent since the day he was summoned. Archimedes – his caster. The most dangerous servant as far as Damian considered. This was the man who stopped the invasion of Syracuse singlehandedly through his mind and innovation.

He gave a nod, and Damian raised his eyebrow. Apparently, that's all he was getting from the man.

Chiron turned towards Saber, arguably the greatest servant amongst them, "What about you, Saber? You've been silent all this time."

Saber took out her sword, the famed Excalibur and held it in front of Damian. A sense of nostalgia hit him, "I ask you again; are you, my master?"

* * *

Carmine Falcone, _The Roman_. He was one of the old school mafia bosses. One of the last greats, a true Sicilian to his very core. His family's roots can be traced back to the twelfth century. And in a business like theirs, roots and family were important. _It was everything._

Once, he ruled in Gotham. Every other crime family operated under his blessing or they didn't operate at all. Bertinelli's, Maronis, Salvone – everyone understood the rules. The rules under which the mafia has been operating in Gotham for centuries.

But then Batman came and with him other costumed freaks. He growled at the very thought, he might not be a paragon of human virtue but he was someone with rules. Someone with principles. These freaks in costumes they had no respect for tradition – _they respected nothing._

All they ever brought was chaos, and dissidence which uprooted his entire operation all those years ago. He lost his sons in the madness of these freaks along with the reputation he painfully built over the years. But he still survived. Only a few of them did – and those who did were forced to join hands in their ventures to just survive. It was a necessity.

Carmine sighed, as he went into his study and poured himself a crisp glass of Macallan. He let it still for a while, rotating the glass until the sides were wet and then he took a deep sip. He let his throat burn under the ministration of alcohol – that's how he preferred it. Neat.

"Is this what an old-time mafia boss does in his free time?"

Carmine choked on his drink until the spat the entire thing out. There was a boy sitting in his study casually reading a magazine.

"Who the fuck are you?" he growled, "How did you get in here?"

The boy smiled, "Something tells me you're used to people breaking in without permission."

"Alberto get in here!" Carmine's old face twisted, and he clicked his fingers, "Get this boy out of here and make sure to rough him up a little."

Nobody came.

"I really hope he's coming." The boy raised his eyebrow, quirking his lips. His amusement was palpable.

Carmine palmed his face, "It seems that you've already taken care of my boys."

"Something tells me that isn't new to you either." He chuckled, "Really, you should get better security. They're terrible. All they do is read dirty magazines. It's a real cliché."

"What do you want?" Carmine growled, "I hope you're not going to threaten me, are you boy? People more intimidating then you've tried and failed."

"So, you're not intimidated by Batman?" he asked while Carmine Falcone snarled.

"Well, that answers it."

"Who. Are. You?"

"You can call me Damian," the boy crossed his legs, "and I am here for your empire or whatever's left of it."

"And you think I will just give it to you!?" Falcone's eyes widened, as he slammed his glass onto the wooden table – splintering it, "You think you can come here, beat up my men, and then sit in my chair like you own it and then threaten me with that nasty little mouth of yours and I will just cower behind the curtains and hand everything over to you! Is that what you think, _you boy!?_ "

"Such distasteful behavior." Damian's eyes narrowed, gazing at the man who was spluttering in rage, "I expected more from _The Roman_. If anything, Carmine, this isn't personal."

" _Everything is personal."_

"Fair enough," Damian chuckled at that, even if he was a little annoyed at being interrupted, "Look you're a dying breed. All of you – the Italians, Sicilians, Yakuza, it doesn't matter. Nobody fears you. Nobody respects you. Especially, when there are true monsters roaming the streets of Gotham. Frankly, all I'm doing is giving you an opportunity to take what you can and leave out of this city as a winner."

"I am a survivor." Carmine snarled, gritting his teeth. He couldn't believe the audacity of this boy. "We were here before them, and we will stand here after they are long gone."

"Just give in, Falcone." Damian frowned, "There is no wisdom in trying to stop the inevitable."

"You're just some boy who can throw a punch harder than some people. That alone doesn't make you a _Don._ " Falcone gripped the underside of his table, and he snarled, "I would rather burn it all down – before I let a kid bully me into giving what is rightfully mine. _I will burn it all._ "

"You have already lost everything. You don't even have a son to inherit what's left of your empire yet you would hold on to your ill-gotten goods till your dying breath." Damian leaned forward, "I can respect the sentiment. I can see how you survived this long."

Damian passed a small phone to Carmine. The old don looked at it, a little perplexed, "Go ahead!" Damian urged.

With a quick click he turned on the phone and a video started playing.

Carmine's breath hitched, and his palms turned sweaty the second he saw a warehouse. The one he owned or more like one of his shell companies owned. And then he saw the entire thing catch fire. There was no sound or screams – just fire.

Fury took him over, hotter than the fire which burned his entire warehouse into the ground. He leaped at the boy with a roar, his entire body collided with Damian. Both of them falling on the ground. His hands found his neck and Falcone squeezed, "Do you have any idea what you did? Do you know what you cost me!?"

"Old Gotham Pharmaceuticals, owned by Vitti Corporation." Damian replied, his tone blasé, "The place where you and your friends cook your little meth and smuggle drugs into Gotham. It's smart to use a pharmaceutical company as a front, ironic really. You cook life-saving drugs and drugs that kill in the same place."

"It brought us millions…" Falcone squeezed harder.

"I know," Damian replied, effortlessly moving the old don's hands from his neck. Then, he gave a light shove - more of a gentle tap. Carmine flew like a rocket and hit the bookcase, breaking it in two. He groaned as pain shot up his spine, and his vision blurred.

"The thing is, I would also rather _burn it all_ if I can't have it." Damian watched the crawling form of Carmine with utter dispassion, "In that way, we both are similar. Not to mention I find the whole business of drugs distasteful. Nothing ruins lives faster…"

Carmine rested his back on the wall, his legs lacking in strength, "This isn't over boy. Not by a long shot."

"No, it isn't." Damian shook his head, "This is just a warning; to you and your other mob friends. I am giving you twenty-four hours to surrender everything to me – _and I mean everything._ If you do then I leave you alone."

"If we don't…"

Damian's eyes turned cold, "You've been in the business long enough to realize what will happen. Anyway, I will take everything. It's up to you whether you want to breathe at the end of this. Have a good day, Falcone."

"And I don't intend to be a Don… _I will be the Godfather._ "

Carmine took a deep breath as he listened to the receding steps of the boy.

" _It won't be so easy, boy…_ "

* * *

Carmine tip-toed inside the room with a gait. If it could be called a room. It was more of a construction site turned in to a makeshift conference room. It was better to conduct business in a random place – selected only hours prior. That way there would be less chance of an ambush.

It was something the Gotham mob started doing after costumed freaks showed up in town. It was too dangerous to not take precautions. They weren't the only players in this town anymore, nor were they the most dangerous.

He winced. His back still hurting after the encounter he had with the thrice-damned boy. No, Damian. That was his name – he deserved at least some semblance of respect.

There weren't many who would dare to manhandle him face to face. Just for that, Damian deserved respect. Whoever threatened him always did so while wearing a mask. Cowards, the lot of them. Even Batman – for all his bravado and mean streak always did so while wearing a mask.

 _Was it stupidity or bravery?_ Carmine questioned himself. Nevertheless, he wasn't going to give Damian a chance.

"We're here, Falcone." A gruff voice broke him from his musings, "Maybe you should tell why you arranged this meeting so late. _Nobody likes going out at night_."

There were a few murmurs. Carmine frowned. Of course, none of them liked going out at night. Not even him. Nights, belonged to Batman. He grits his teeth. Each day they seemed to lose more ground. Twenty years back they would've never worried about it. Every last inch of Gotham belonged to them, after all. Nobody dared to breathe in this town without their permission. Day or Night; it didn't matter.

But now their influence only extended to the East Side of the town. The poorest part of Gotham for all matters and purposes. How far they had fallen!

Now, somebody dared to even take that away from them. Away from him! He wasn't going to let it go without a fight!

Carmine's powerful gaze turned towards Frank Bertinelli. Once hated rivals now partners. Necessity makes for strange bed mates. Then it turned towards the rest of them. Salvone, Maroni, Sullivans. Every last one of them was here along with their lieutenants. The chosen successors to their empire.

Carmine took a deep breath, taking his seat at the head of the table. "There has been a development. I'm afraid we've lost our drug operation."

"Impossible!" Frank Bertinelli smacked his hand on the table, "You assured us it was well protected. You gave us your word, Falcone! Does your word not mean a thing anymore!"

"You would do well to not question me, Bertinelli." Carmine hissed, "This is no longer the _Cosa Nostra_! You no longer sit at the head of the table! I do! Hence, I will handle it!"

"You'll handle it?" Frank gave a mirthful chuckle, swaying, "Look what he says?" He looks at rest of the mob boss, "Is this you handling it, Falcone? He hissed, "We just lost a two-hundred-million-dollar operation. One of the few which brought us profits year after year. And now we've lost that income. And you won't even tell us who did this? You speak as if a common dog died rather than the golden goose."

"Even as we speak the situation is being contained." Carmine sneered, "This is just a courtesy on my part."

Immediately, there were murmurs. Distress was thick in the air.

"Frank's right, my friend." Mickey Sullivan, the head of the Sullivan Crime family spoke, "You know I wouldn't say this if it wasn't necessary. But all of us here deserve to know how we lost our millions. I've no doubt that you are already on the problem but this is a matter of principles. What are we without them but animals."

"Was it Batman? Or one of the other freaks?" Frank questioned, not caring much for what Sullivan thought.

"No, I am afraid it was someone new." Carmine replied. Pulling a photo from his jacket and hurling it at the table. _Damn his principles!_ He was going to lose a lot of respect over this.

The mob bosses passed the photo amongst them. Their eyes wide in incredulity and mouth agape in disbelief.

It was the photo of a young boy with green eyes. Barely a teenager. A photo taken from the CCTV cameras in the Falcone Estate.

"You are joking!" Frank slammed his hands, "You gotta' be fuckin' jokin'!? You are telling me a kid destroyed our crime operation! A kid did this to us!"

"His name is Damian." Carmine said, rubbing his forehead, "He has given us twenty-four hours to hand over everything we own."

Frank Bertinelli choked on his rage.

"Did you meet him?" Sullivan asked ignoring the frothing Bertinelli Family head.

"He came at my home to threaten me."

Utter Silence. Even Frank Bertinelli the most outspoken amongst them went silent. Dead Silent.

"You are telling me that this boy came into your home. Threatened you. _Threatened all of_ _us._ And you just let him get away with it?" Frank spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft. However, there was an edge to it. Controlled madness would be the best way to describe it.

"What do you think?" Carmine snorted, not intimidated in the least, "You know me best."

It was true. They were rivals and hated enemies. Enemies who waged war for control of Gotham. They knew each other to the point that they couldn't stand each other.

Frank sighed, taking off his fedora, "What now?"

"I take care of it – as usual."

Before Frank could ask how – a figure made itself know. He came out of the shadows like a wraith. Invisible. He stared them down with a single eye. The entire mob let out a collective shudder.

Frank Bertinelli gazed at the infamous mercenary wearing the orange mask. "That bad?"

Carmine snorted, "Just don't want to take risks. And I hold a grudge."

"But still…"

"We thought ourselves invincible when we weren't." Carmine got up from the table, buttoning his jacket, "Look where that lead us. We are but a shade of what we once were. No more risks. If someone threatens us we eliminate them without mercy. No questions asked."

Carmine clicked his fingers, and his attendants came with a briefcase. "You will get a million now and another after the work is done. Do not disappoint me, _Deathstroke._ "

The assassin walked forward and pocketed the photo, "The boy is dead already. If you thought I couldn't deliver then you wouldn't have hired me." He walked out with the briefcase.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief. Deathstroke had a reputation which demanded fear and respect. Even the mob, as arrogant they were would never risk his ire. The price was too high for that offense. Death.

"This one is on me." Carmine Falcone gave one last look and walked away. So, did the rest of the mob bosses one by one.

Nobody noticed a white dove watching them. Silent like a viper. A flutter of wings and it flew away.

* * *

"I thought you said to never take a job in Gotham." Rose Wilson spat, "It's too much trouble than its worth – it went something like that." She mimicked her father's tone, "So, what changed?"

"I also said to never give up an opportunity to make a lot of money." Slade Wilson aka Deathstroke replied taking off his mask, "I remember it being the very first rule."

"Yeah." Rose snorted, "Just before not taking a job in Gotham. A rule you said to never forget no matter how mad I was. So, for how much money are we breaking our cardinal rule."

"Two million."

"T-That is a lot of money." Rose stuttered, losing her step, "But is it worth a confrontation with Batman?" She paled as a thought entered her mind, "Don't tell me the contract is to kill Batman."

Slade raised his eyebrow, "Do you really think I would take a contract on Batman for a mere two million?"

Rose let out a sigh of relief, "Great. Not killing Batman. That's fucking great! But there is still a chance that we might encounter him. Last time, didn't go so well for us."

"We don't have to worry about that. Batman is with the league – according to my sources. Apparently, there was a huge electro-magnetic storm in Tibet. It got the league worried. They are still busy on finding the person responsible for it."

Rose nodded, "So who is it? Penguin, Two-Face, Riddler, _Joker._ " She shuddered.

"A guy named Damian."

Rose's eyes widened behind her mask, "You're joking. Please tell me you're joking. We actually have to kill a guy named Damian. Could this be any more of a cliché? What is our target, an investment banker!?"

Slade took out the photo and handed it to his daughter, "This is your job. Needless to say, I will be very disappointed if you fail in this task."

Rose looked at the photo and it increased her bewilderment, "It's just a child. You want me to kill a fuckin' child!"

"Is that a problem?"

"No, this is hardly a challenge." Rose took out her sword and gave it a sensual lick, "I am insulted. This kid might as well be dead already."

"Just leave this to me, _Daddy~_ " She moaned, madness taking over her.

Slade hoped it was the serum which was responsible for her violent mood changes. He hoped.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter - 5**

Damian was calm. Too calm. Especially for someone, who threatened an infamous mob boss for everything he owned – only moments ago. Too calm for someone who blew up an entire warehouse to smithereens. So, he could teach a lesson to the said mob boss. Way too calm for someone, who had an infamous assassin gunning for his head.

Damian was cool as a fucking cucumber. Jade was delirious.

"Are. You. Insane?" She snapped.

"Last I checked – No, _not really_." Damian's lips quirked into a smile. Jade lost her shit!

"What is wrong with you!?" Jade's hand slammed the table, "No, seriously! What in the actual fuck is wrong with you!? Clearly, you're not a total idiot—"

"Well, thanks for your vote of confidence." Damian quipped.

Jade roared and grabbed Damian by his collar – lifting him up like a sack of potatoes. Coal black eyes staring into emerald green. None spoke for a moment. Jade sighed, in part exhaustion and frustration, "Do you understand just how much danger you're in?" her voice but a whisper, "Do you understand who is coming after you?"

Damian blinked, "Some assassin."

"Some assassin?" Jade gaped, her grip slacking. She couldn't believe how blase Damian was being, "It's not some assassin! It's Deathstroke! Do you _really_ think you're safe hiding in here!? You think these walls will protect you? _No, they won't. Not against him._ "

Damian's eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head, "You know him?"

"You can say that." Jade gave a dry chuckle.

"And I'm assuming it wasn't in best of circumstances?"

Jade snickered, shaking her head, "That's one way of putting it. I don't think there's anyone in our business who doesn't know about _Deathstroke The Terminator_. He has a reputation."

"You don't have to worry, Jade." Damian sighed, trying his best not to pry into the details of her encounter, and to assuage her fear. "I'll be fine. It might not seem like it but it will take a lot more than a single assassin to take me down. _Much, much more._ I suggest you head home and have a good night's sleep. You will need it. Because tomorrow we'll have a lot of work to do."

Jade wanted to scream, "I am not leaving you here alone to die! If you go on like this tomorrow might never come."

"Your concern is unwarranted but nevertheless appreciated."

"I. Am. Not. Concerned." Jade hissed like a cat, affronted at the very idea. "For a moment, I thought you were going to play it smart. But then you went straight into the lion's den with no protection. Y-You had the sheer gall to enter Falcone Estate through the front door. Through the front door!"

Jade took a deep breath, trying to control her heartbeat. "I didn't say much – thinking there was a reason for this stupidity. Then you threatened him face to face instead of putting a bullet in his head – right there. Like a sensible person."

"What would killing him achieve?" Damian frowned, with his arms crossed. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Even if he dies someone else will take over his operations. Crime will still be prevalent. People of Gotham will still suffer. Or worse, it might create a power vacuum. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry vying to become the next Falcone."

"So, what?" Jade's lips twisted, "If it's a contest of power then we will easily win. We have seven heroes of legends on our side. It would've been a child's play! But now you've sent them to God knows where!"

"You're right." Damian clicked his tongue, "If it's contest of strength then we would've won… _but at what cost?_ The gang war between us would've torn the eastern side of Gotham into pieces. Innocent lives would've been extinguished like mere flames… From where I sit, a single assassin after me is the best case scenario."

Jade sighed, "Not this again, Damian. You can't save everyone! Some lives need to be sacrificed for the greater good."

"If any life needs to be sacrificed for the greater good – _let that be mine._ "

"Y-You are really willing to go that far!" Jade stuttered, her mouth wide. It actually took her a minute to give a coherent response, "Please at the least tell me there is a plan? That something will come out of this."

"You really didn't think I would risk my life for absolutely nothing?"

Jade grits her teeth. She wanted to give a piece of her mind without any filter – to tell him what she actually thought about him but she went for a mild response instead, "From what I've seen from you so far – _I wonder._ It's like you've no survival instincts." It was a short one but it conveyed everything there was to convey.

"We now know every mob boss which has a stake in Old Gotham. We know who their lieutenants are. We know where their businesses are, and what their businesses are. We also know who their successors are. The information is priceless. Especially for someone like me – someone who has the manpower to immediately act on it."

"Y-You mean?"

"Yes." Damian's lips twisted into a smirk; daring Jade to look away from it. "As of this very moment, my servants are dismantling Gotham Mob to its very core. A master plan made by none other than Archimedes of Syracuse – the man whose ingenuity allowed his country to remain unconquered even when the mighty hordes of Roman Empire laid siege to their walls! It was never a question of whether I could do it – it was always when and how. The question that matters most to me."

"That is brilliant." Jade gulped then her eyes narrowed, "You should've told me sooner."

"I did. You never listen." Damian puffed his cheeks, "You were too busy training under Chiron to even bother with me."

"Even then you should've at least made one of your servants stay with you." Jade replied, her cheeks coloring, "You've left yourself open for an attack!"

"How dangerous is Deathstroke?" Damian rubbed his chin in deep thought.

"Very." Jade shuddered, holding her arms tighter. "They don't call him the Terminator for nothing. Once he takes a contract he never gives up. He finds the target no matter in which hole they're hiding and then he puts a bullet through their skull. He doesn't mess around. He doesn't dawdle. He just finishes the job. He's better than my father, though he would never admit it."

"How very professional of him?" Damian's lips quirked in amusement, and he immediately regretted it.

"Stop joking around!" Jade scowled, with her teeth bared, and waving her hands, "And take this seriously!"

"Is there anything else I need to know about him? Damian tried to change the subject. The last thing he needed was for Jade to lose her temper. As she preferred 'lose her shit!'

"He has taken a serum which makes him stronger than a normal human. Enhances his senses, makes his muscle stronger, even his brain reacts faster to stimuli."

"I see…" Damian rests his hands on the table, "Well, I think I'll manage."

"Of course, you would say that," Jade growled, not finding his blasé tone appealing in the slightest. Her eyes narrowed, "You know you could've gotten all of that even if you would've killed Falcone. Surely someone like Archimedes could've easily hacked the don's computer or something. Right after you pumped lead through the bastard's skull!"

Damian snorted, "Carmine Falcone and computer?" He gave a small laugh, "The guy is as old school as they come. He would never put anything of importance in a computer system. He doesn't trust it! The guy still carries a pager with him. I think that says enough."

"Then he must have a ledger." Jade replied, "A business that big would be otherwise impossible to run."

"Yes, he does have a ledger."

Jade raised an eyebrow, then she looked at the books which he had been fiddling for the longest time. Now, everything clicked. He could see the bulb light, "You already have it!" She snarled, "Then why even go through all this!?"

"I wanted to give them a chance to do the right thing. A chance to get out of this in the right side."

 _Only Damian, only he would be stupid enough to do that!_ Jade was done educating him on this matter. He just didn't learn. So, she let out a heavy breath, holding back her real thoughts, "How did you even know that Carmine set Deathstroke after you? Let alone all about bosses of Gotham Mob? Carmine isn't foolish enough to implicate anyone in that little notebook of his."

"Semiramis, she can relay anything that her doves see." Damian replied, "Right now, every last pigeon in Gotham is under her control. It's not an ideal spy network but for now, it will do."

"You're joking." Jade's eyes widened in incredulity, "Please tell me that this entire operation is not based on the intel you got from a fucking pigeon!"

 _It's doves, not pigeons. There's a difference._ Damian sighed, not because he cared but Semiramis seemed to. Cared enough that she would point him out every time he got it wrong – until, he didn't anymore.

Jade was still screaming. Damian sighed again. So much for not making her mad.

* * *

Seven people stood on top of a roof. Their backs straight. Their gait supernatural. Their presence downright suffocating. They were heroes of legends – people whose mark was so deep in this world that even after millennia's they were remembered with reverence. So great were their deeds that it left a mark in the very cosmos.

And right now, their emotions were mixed, to say the least. A sense of tension and trepidation hanged around them – thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Let me be the first to say that I am not comfortable with this." Achilles exhaled, his hands brushing through his golden hair, "What we're doing today goes against everything I stand for."

"I agree with you but we must do it anyway." Arturia frowned, her shoulders tensed.

Achilles gaped at her, not believing what the king of knights said, "You – You of all should be against it! You're the King of the Knights! Where's your honor now!?"

"Don't take that tone with me, Rider." Arturia's eyes narrowed into slits, "We are all familiar with your legend. And I can say without any doubt that you've done worse things – things which were downright dishonorable. You of all don't get to question mine when yours is stained beyond any recognition."

Achilles' chiseled face tightened into a grimace, "Yes, I've done terrible things. Things which doesn't allow me to sleep at night… things that will stay with me for the rest of my life. Hence, I question my master's actions. I already have enough regrets as it is."

"You were always quick to give your loyalty, Achilles," Chiron shook his head in disappointment, "But you were just as quick to take it away. This behavior of yours has wrought nothing but misery – to both yourself and those close to you. It seems even death has not cured you of it. Let this not be another Troy..."

Achilles withered under Chiron's stare. Suddenly, he was the same little boy who came asking for training under Chiron's doors. His proud back bent – for a mere moment before it was back to being straight as a rod.

Semiramis snorted, her ruby red lips twisting into a wicked smirk, "Unlike you knights, I was a Queen. A successful queen who led their people to wealth and prosperity–"

"You never leave a chance to flatter yourself, don't you?" Cu Chulainn rolled his eyes. It didn't seem like it but he was watching the proceedings with a keen eye.

"Hardly a noteworthy goal," Arturia raised one of her eyebrows, "I was a ruler too."

Semiramis's smile turned downright poisonous, "But not a successful one, were you? Your kingdom fell into ruins under your leadership. _Gone like dust in the wind~_ "

Arturia decided then and there that she didn't like Semiramis. _Morgana_ , that's what she reminded her of – her sorceress sister. Who was as black of heart as she was beautiful – her sorcery just as poisonous as her tongue. "You better come to the point quick. Or everyone here will see whether you retain your snarky tongue when my blade is done with you."

The raven-haired beauty's face tightened as a feeling of pressure came on her shoulders. Semiramis managed to smile, somehow, "The point is unlike you knights I had to make despicable decisions so that I could keep my kingdom intact. Sometimes the price was high but it was one I willingly paid."

"I can sympathize with that sentiment." Arturia replied as the pressure on Semiramis lifted, "I understand that sometimes blood needs to be spilled so that innocents needn't suffer. Even I had to stain my Excalibur as I cut through hordes of enemy soldiers. It was not something I took pleasure in but it was necessary."

Achilles didn't share Semiramis's sentiments, "I don't need to learn about honor from a _witch_ like you! I am a hero! I will not be reduced to a common thug. We are not supposed to scurry like rats and hurt common people."

Cu Chulainn whistled. He knew what was coming. Semiramis was going to explode – imagine his surprise when that didn't happen. Especially, when the person who was responsible was someone he thought would never interfere.

"Enough." a soft but commanding voice spoke, "It's a chore to see such great men and women fighting like children."

Everyone gaped. Semiramis's jaw hit the floor. Arturia and Achilles fared no better. Even Chiron was taken aback.

"Caster, y-you…"

"Close your mouth, Achilles. It's unbecoming." Archimedes tightened his tie and closed the buttons of his jacket. "All this time I heard you fight like children rather than acting like servants who ascended to the throne of the heroes. You all childishly fight about honor like it's something worth preserving. As if it's something tangible. It's just foolishness at its finest."

"That's uncalled for." Arturia folded her arms as she glared at the man. "You were never a warrior you can never understand what it means to us."

"Is it not? You all claim honorable but you would speak of treachery with that same breath. Achilles, Arturia, Chiron, and Cu Chulainn – you have already given your loyalty to your master. You have kneeled in front of him – given your sword as his own. What will happen to your honor when you fail him? What will happen to your honor; if now in his time of need you will turn your sword against him?

"If this is all it takes for you to question your loyalty then maybe our master is better off without any of you. Maybe he's better off without your honor."

"We never talked of treachery! I never even thought of it!" Arturia cried, choking on her emotion. "I would… I would never betray Sh-Damian!"

Archimedes's stare passed through the King of Knights like a blade sharper than the very Excalibur, "I believe you. I believe you, Saber – but can I say the same about those two."

* * *

Achilles looked away in shame but Chiron stood his ground.

Not that he wasn't ashamed. He did think of treachery if not for a moment but he wasn't going to act on it. First and foremost, he was always a teacher. He will never betray one of his own students. But his heart still questioned the wisdom of his master's actions.

"Why Archimedes? Why come to our aid?" Chiron asked, "You were silent when master told his goals to us. You didn't even seem that interested… but now at our moment of crisis, you break your silence. I ask why?"

"I am not interested in master's goals nor am I loyal to him. I find the ideals he clings to childish and downright naïve to the point that just thinking about it makes me mad. There is no logic or order to any of it. It's about as useless as your knightly honor or warrior's pride." Archimedes sneered, which was most emotion he showed in his generally apathetic face.

"Then why?"

"Because the goals my master holds dear were once my own. Even as a child, I thought the world lacked the beauty and symmetry which my own theorems and casting arrays held. My theorems, my inventions, my magic – they were perfect in every way. They were supposed to make the world a better place. Bring order to chaos. But nothing but misery came out of it. And the only people I blame for that are _humans._ "

Archimedes hissed the word as if it were a poison, "Such tragic creatures we are… doomed to repeat the mistakes of our past. Never trying, to learn from it. Even heroes are not circumspect from it. I believe in logic. I believe in reality. So, every part of me says that my master will never succeed. _But still… a part of me wants to see how far he will go._ "

"I am not the guy who ever entertains illogical fallacies. In fact, I despise them to my very core. But now here we all are – seven servants together. Summoned by a single master. By no means is this possible. I have run every calculation known to man and beyond. It doesn't make sense _yet here we are._ He has already achieved the impossible once…"

Semiramis agreed with the sentiment. With the entirety of her heart. She also wanted to see how far Damian could reach with that stupid goal in his mind.

"I understand," Chiron replied. There was nothing for him to say.

Silence took over the roof as everyone tried to stomach in what Archimedes said. Achilles felt more uncomfortable than ever.

"As of this very moment, our master is in significant danger." Archimedes' eyes narrowed, while Saber stiffened, "I wasn't supposed to tell you this. It was not the plan both I and my master agreed upon but you deserve to know. Considering, you all are just as responsible for his safety as I am."

"What do you mean?" Arturia growled, like an animal. _The King of Knights whose etiquette was that of the highest of the king – growled like a base animal._

"Carmine Falcone has hired an assassin of considerable reputation to hunt our master down." Archimedes replied, his tone was apathetic to the point it seemed like he was talking about weather. "But even then, our master has seen fit to send every last one of us to do this important task."

"Why would master do that?" Achilles asked, "There is no need for all of us to be here. The task is simple enough as it is. We go in and neutralize the mob. Even a single one of us is nothing but overkill."

Archimedes shook his head, "Reality is rarely ever so simple. Yes, a single one of us can take down every last member of the mob. Even if they attack together they will never stand a chance to scratch any one of us let alone kill us. However, we can't be at all places in a single time. There is a chance that if we don't handle this carefully, the fighting might spread to the streets. In fact, it's but certain."

"Innocent lives would be put in danger for no reason. I don't care for these lives. I find them tedious at best but for some unfathomable reason, master seems to give a damn. That's why he sent us to make sure that it didn't happen even if his own life was put in danger. Considering the kind of man he is, he might attract the assassin's attention towards him just so we get more time to get this right."

Saber grits her teeth. Archimedes was right, she realized, more then he would ever know. Damian, Shirou it didn't matter. They were both suicidal.

"So, every moment we waste here – we're disappointing someone whose trust in us is absolute. Maybe we should start returning some of that right about now. And the only way to go about it is for us to work together and make sure not a single innocent pays the price for our hubris. Because from where I sit the only one who has acted like a hero here is our master. Now, it's our turn to act like our namesake. Even though I don't enjoy this."

"You're right, Caster." Achilles replied. There was no hesitation. Not anymore, there was only resolve.

"So what if our actions are not heroic today at the least we will rid this world of some scums – I am told that it's at least worth some commendation."

"It's great that now everyone here knows what's at stake here." Semiramis replied with a smile, "I wasn't comfortable hiding it either."

"You already knew!" Saber's eyes turned into slits.

"Damian told us not to tell anyone. I was the one who found the information in the first place using my doves." Semiramis smiled before she directed a coy look at Arturia, "He didn't consult you?"

"The only reason he told me was because, I insisted on it. After all, I am his chief strategist." Archimedes frowned. His gaze then locked on Semiramis wondering what she could possibly achieve by baiting King of Knights of all person. He hated women – _they were the most illogical of all creatures._

Saber glowered at the smug expression of Semiramis. She _really_ didn't like her. _Vile Witch!_ She really wanted to have a special talk with Shirou...

* * *

Five Hours.

That's all it took for Rose Wilson to find her target. She looked through the scope of her sniper. There the boy was, about twelve or thirteen. A little bit short for his age but not by too much. She was disappointed, to say the least.

Was this the boy who got Falcone all hot and bothered? She didn't see it. He looked like a normal kid. There was nothing intimidating or special about him. He was the kind of kid she wouldn't spare a second glance on if they ever met on the streets. Ordinary. He was too damn ordinary.

She felt the weight of her 9mm rifle, VSS Vintorez. One of the best in the market. Very good for assassination because of its silent nature. Her father's favorite. The only downside – it had a short range of only 500 meters. But it was more than enough for this job. She could easily take the shot from the roof of this building.

It was high and had a direct view into the study of his target.

Rose's Finger itched on the trigger. One single pull and it would be all over. The boy's brains would spill all over his desk, and she would be richer for it. About two million dollars richer.

She took a deep breath. To shoot or not to shoot. Why was she hesitating? This was her chance to prove to her father that she was just like him. A cold-blooded assassin. So, then why was she hesitating!? Was it because the target was a child? Surely not. Child, Adult what was the difference. A job was a job. Nothing more to it.

Rose's finger tightened on the trigger. Holding it in a vice grip. Her palms felt sweaty. She gulped and looked through the scope again… and the boy wasn't sitting on his desk anymore.

"Fuck!" She screamed. She missed her chance. Rose exhaled trying to calm herself. It also didn't help that after taking her father's serum she had developed a short fuse. Quick to anger. Anyway, he was bound to come back. Then she would take the shot and end it.

Twenty minutes went by. So, did another twenty. And she got more irritated with each passing minute. What the fuck was he doing!? Was she supposed to just sit around for hours now!? Tch, that's what she gets for hesitating!

Rose bit her lips, drawing blood. She didn't bother to clean it – she liked the taste of it. Another ten minutes and that's it! Then she was going in there personally and finishing the job. Like the way, she should've done it in the first place. Hindsight was really twenty-twenty.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Rose stiffened – feeling hot air on her cheeks. Somebody was so close that she could feel their breath on her neck. Somebody had gotten the drop on her. What the fuck!?

She swirled around pointing the barrel of her gun towards the person who invaded her space. A quick jab to her arms and her sniper was taken. Rose didn't stop. To stop in the middle of a fight was to die.

Her legs immediately moved in an arc – giving two quick kicks. One aimed at the torso and another at the groin. None of them connected. They weren't meant to. But she managed to get the necessary distance between her person and also managed to removed her customized Glock 17 from her hips.

She huffed, pointing her gun at the intruder and snarled, "Damian! I should've known. This entire thing was too easy to be true. Fuck! My father would never let me live this down."

Rose stuck her barrel out, waiting for any sign of movement. The boy casually held her sniper in his hands, not even bothering to point it towards her. He seemed bored if anything. Just the very thought drove her – _absolutely_ _insane._ Was she not a challenge?

But then he smiled, a slight quirk to the corner of his lips, "So, you're Deathstroke's daughter. Cheshire had some things to say about you."

"So, she's here too! What did she say about me? I hope she said the bestest things about me." Rose grinned, tapping her shoes.

Damian rolled his eyes, "She said you were crazier than your father. I think she was right."

"She does know what to say to turn me on~" Rose licked her lips, "You wouldn't mind telling me where she is, do you?"

"I'm right here you psycho!" Jade came out of the shadows like the Cheshire Cat she was. Wearing her usual green outfit and her mask.

"This is great!" Rose's neck moved fast enough to make it seem as if it snapped, "I thought you were just some kid who was out of his depth but clearly you are a lot better if you were able to get her. Crushing you would be a lot more fun than I imagined. So, Damian, be a good little boy and entertain me until I break that pretty little neck of yours."

"That is if you can actually deliver." Damian's eyes lit up in amusement, "From what I've seen so far – I think you should've brought your father. It would've been fairer."

"We'll see," Rose growled, and she pulled the trigger twice once at Jade and another at Damian. Boom! Boom! The bullets left breaking the sound barrier. Normal Glocks could never be that fast but her customized ones were different… it was necessary in a world where every hero had superspeed.

She didn't expect to hit anything vital or hit him, period. But she expected him to move. To give her a chance to disarm him and engage in hand to hand combat – where she could crush him with her enhanced strength.

But nothing happened. She looked at the boy who had a gentle smile plastered on his face and then she looked at the pilfered sniper rifle the boy was holding. The nozzle had smoke coming out of it. It clicked on her.

Rose's single eye widened, "I-Impossible." she stuttered. Not quite believing what had happened. Damian destroyed the bullets in the air with his sniper – before they could reach their target. The sheer level of mind-eye coordination required for that was mind-boggling.

She growled. Thirteen bullets – she still had thirteen bullets left in her magazine. She shot all of them in quick succession. All at Damian – he didn't look ordinary to her anymore. He was dangerous.

The bullets popped in the mid-air with sparks. The splinters glowing orange like meteors. None of them ever connected her target. But she closed the distance between them, throwing her gun away and unsheathing the sword from her back.

One swing and she cut the rifle in Damian's hand in half – rendering it useless. That was the aim in the first place. The gun was too dangerous in the boy's hands. He didn't seem to miss a target. It almost made her wonder why he never took a direct shot at her.

 _Was he looking down on her?_ She growled. _Of course, he was! She was going to make him regret it!_

Another swing and it would be over. Her blade will cut the boy's head off and that would be the end of it. Rose grinned, he might've had some tricks up his sleeve but she was still better.

However, her grin fell, so did her confidence – when the boy stopped her sword with a single finger. Even Superman couldn't do that considering her blade was brushed with kryptonite. It wasn't like it would help against the Man of Steel considering the man's sheer speed but it would still give her a chance.

"Really, a sword?" The amusement in Damian's tone chilled her spine, "You would've had better luck with your gun."

Rose snarled but she never got a chance to reply. Because Cheshire moved. In a span of a moment, the woman in green was behind her. It would've been her blind spot since she took her own eye but Rose was different.

She moved just as quick – her sword clashing with Jade's Sais. Metal met metal and they screeched. Making both Jade and Rose grit their teeth in exertion.

Rose smirked, "Gave up on using your sword, did you? Must've realized that you were shit at it."

"And you're just as ugly as the day I met you, Ravager."

" _Awww~_ You know you want me." Rose's expression turned wicked, "And didn't I teach you last time that there was no beating me when it came to a contest of strength."

Rose started pushing her longtime rival back with barely any effort on her part. The serum she injected herself with all those years ago gave her strength far surpassing that of a human. Whereas Cheshire, while highly trained her limits never surpassed her meager human origins.

She turned her attention towards Damian – who was watching the entire thing from a distance with an impassive gaze. That was a mistake.

"I don't need to be stronger than you to beat you." Jade smirked, "There's something called as skill. You wouldn't know anything about it!" With a quick movement, she moved out of the way of Rose's sword and got into her guard. She didn't waste the opportunity and aimed her Sai right at the heart.

There was a moment of surprise. Rose was trained by Deathstroke and it showed. Even when she was caught off guard she didn't go down that easy. She moved just enough to make sure that the Sai didn't pierce her heart instead it went through her shoulders.

"Aaaaargh!" She let out a scream. As blood flowed like river and pain invaded her senses. "You're dead ya' cunt!"

Madness took over Rose – a side effect of the serum which made her stronger. She let out a swift punch which crushed Cheshire's cat mask in a single blow.

But that wasn't enough. Not for Rose Wilson – daughter of Deathstroke. She wanted to crush the person who made her bleed. She wanted to punch Cheshire until she was nothing more than meat. And then continue punching.

She never got the chance.

Before she could even pull her first punch. Something hit her. Something hard. That's the only way she could describe it. She never saw it coming. It was so fast and brutal. And she knew brutal thanks to her spars with her father.

She felt like her chest was caved in. She turned another side to see where the boy was. She shouldn't have bothered; he was right in front of her. Looking down with a smile. He looked so gentle, like a parent looking down at a child who had done something wrong. She felt an emotion she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Fear.


	7. Chapter 6

11615ft. The longest shot ever made by a sniper on record. That's approximately 3.5kms away. A Canadian soldier was responsible for this monumental feat. Ten seconds – Yes, it took ten seconds for the bullet to actually hit the target.

Deathstroke's range was twice as long on the worst day. If wind, distance, and temperature were on his side then he could extend his range even further. To put that in perspective 'The Terminator' cannot miss a shot even from a distance of 7kms. Provided he had a sniper rifle that capable.

With his custom-made rifle that shot bullets faster than the speed of sound – there wasn't a thing he couldn't hit from a distance. Nothing. Until now.

The master assassin's finger caressed the trigger of his rifle. He exhaled, steadying himself. The cold wind of the night hit his digits like needles. There was a familiarity to his action which only a few could achieve – he seemed one with his equipment. He seemed at peace. Almost.

When he sent Rose after his target he expected it to be a normal job. Something his daughter could handle with ease. Just how could she screw up an assassination of a simple boy? But after seeing what he had seen 'simple boy' didn't do his target justice.

From what Carmine Falcone told him his target appeared to be nothing more than an upstart. Falcone was wrong. He had underestimated this boy. Severely.

Deathstroke frowned. His lips slanting in displeasure.

Damian was dangerous. He blinked through the scope as the boy shut down his berserker daughter with one single punch to her solar plexus. It was quick, brutal, and above all efficient. Everything he respected. For a moment he felt something akin to pity – the boy could've had a great future.

Deathstroke's gaze turned to his daughter's beaten form. _Useless,_ he thinks, _Absolutely_ _useless._ _What's the point of all that training if you're just_ _going to act like a common animal?_

She was disappointing just like her mother. He frowned. He would've to increase Rose's training if this is the kind of performance he had to expect from her.

He exhaled, trying to get his mind off his daughter and divert it towards his target. Damian... no last name.

Deathstroke's eyes narrowed. How did he never hear about him? Who trained him? And he was trained, there was no doubt about it. He could see it in the way the boy moved – Damian was a predator. Even if the boy didn't realize it at this point.

It wasn't like he couldn't do what the boy did. Despite all the training, Rose still had ways to go before she could be counted amongst the big leagues.

Damian's speed was impressive but it was not what made his hair raise. It was the skill with which the boy executed his attack. He had a fraction of a second before Rose would've reduced Sportmaster's daughter into a literal pulp.

Within that short span, Damian was able to close the distance and then put enough power behind his punch that it would drop Rose like a sack of potatoes. It was impressive by any standards. Real impressive, considering Rose could take a punishment. Even more impressive was the fact that he himself barely noticed the attack.

He turned to his daughter once again who was struggling to even take a single breath. _You handled the entire thing like an amateur._ It was inexcusable.

Deathstroke took another deep breath, readying himself to take the shot. His digit tightened on the trigger, like a death hook.

He was about 2kms away from the target in an elevated point. Far enough to be out of his target's sight but close enough to confirm the kill personally after he took his shot.

It was the ideal position.

However, there was one single problem. He was sure that the second he pressed the trigger; the boy would move to dodge his bullet. It would be a child's play for someone who moments ago stopped all the bullets from her daughter's Glock in the very air with a sniper rifle.

It was the crux of the problem.

Damian had a spatial awareness which was unprecedented. _Was he a meta?_ Deathstroke wondered. The boy was better than him and he was enhanced by Mirakuru.

Another deep breath. And the scope stabilized, giving a clear view.

The speed of sound was 343m/s. His bullet moved at twice the speed of sound so that's 646m/s. The approximate distance of the target, 2km away. It would take close to 3 seconds before the bullet hits the target.

That was three seconds too many. It would never hit Damian. His target was better than that. So, how to take down someone who can see you coming, a mile away.

It was simple… elementary even.

Deathstroke turned his scope towards Sportmaster's daughter. The assassin's lips curved and he pulled the trigger – without any hesitation.

Boom! The gunpowder lit, sparks flew and the bullet shot out, cutting through the air – chasing death. Deathstroke grunted as the recoil hit him but his eyes never left the scope.

He watched as the boy's attention turned towards him in horror. He watched as the boy snarled and moved towards his companion. He watched as Damian pushed Cheshire down and the bullet pierced through his heart.

Deathstroke smiled through all of it. Finally, his grip on his rifle relaxed.

He always got his target.

* * *

Carmine Falcone sat on his chair, his shoulders slacking. A tired sigh escaped his lips. He could hear all the screams around him… he knew that something went wrong with his plan. Drastically wrong. Horribly wrong. Of course, he knew who was responsible. It was pretty obvious.

Damian threatens him a few hours ago and now something is attacking his secret base. It couldn't be more obvious. He didn't know how the boy found him but the fact remained that he did. It couldn't be anyone else. He was old but not senile.

He poured another drink – maybe his last drink. He walked towards the window like a zombie and gazed outside with a forlorn look. His two hundred strong men were getting decimated by one single man.

There were flashes of a male silhouette before his men fell like puppets – their strings cut off. It was incredible, to say the least… whoever this man was, he was moving fast enough that his naked eyes couldn't even begin to comprehend.

For a moment, he thought it was the freak from Star City. But it couldn't be. For some reason, all the meta heroes avoided Gotham like the very plague.

Another flash and few more of his men fell. It was enough to crush any hope of escape. Enough to crush any hope to come out of this – a winner. A single boy was doing this to him.

Carmine took a single sip when he heard his door getting slammed in. He didn't even bother to move or take a single step. What was the point? It's not like it would change a damn thing. It was not like he would succeed where two hundred of his men failed.

"Carmine Falcone…" The figure said

He didn't answer.

"Are you not going to resist?"

Carmine turned back… a little surprised by the velvety voice which greeted him. He expected the man to sound harsher considering how brutally this person had destroyed his people.

Instead, it was a man who looked as if he was taken straight from the pages of a fashion magazine. Chiseled cheeks, long eyelashes, nimble frame… not something you would expect from a man who was this dangerous. And he was wearing a Greek Armor? Or was it Roman he wasn't sure.

History wasn't his strongest subject.

"Are you here to kill me?" Carmine asked.

"No," the man replied, "You are to come with me. My master, demands it."

"Who's this master of yours?" Carmine raised one of his eyebrows.

"I think you are already aware of who he is." The man's replied with a clipped tone.

Carmine frowned letting out a growl, "Why would someone like you follow a child like him?"

The man didn't answer.

Carmine then looked at his defeated men once again. Every last one of them didn't move a single muscle. A look of pity crossed his face, "Did you kill them? All of them?" he asked.

"No. They're just unconscious." The man sighed, "My master was adamant about not killing any of your lackeys."

"So only I am to die."

The man didn't answer.

* * *

Jade's breath hitched as her face twisted into pure horror. One moment she was dismantling her opponent thanks to her training with Chiron. And the next thing she knows Ravager grows insane from a single stab wound.

It was like looking at a wild animal. The madness in her single eye was enough to freeze her for a moment. Ravager took advantage of that. A single brain rattling punch to her brain broke her sturdy polycarbonate mask into pieces. If she hadn't been wearing that then she would've been dead.

Another punch and that would've been the end. But before Ravager could do a thing she was taken down so fast that if she had blinked then she would've missed it. One single punch that's all it took. One single punch from Damian – and Ravager was down for the count.

So then why was she holding his bleeding body right now!?

She was struggling to figure out what the hell had just happened! She tore her sleeve and pressed it over his chest to stem the flow of blood. Frantic. He was gasping for breath. "Hold on Damian… Just hold on. Please don't die on me."

This was all her fault. Jade's eyes glistened. It happened because she stayed with him. The bullet was supposed to pierce her chest but it went through Damian because he pushed her out of the way. If only she listened to him and had gone home then this wouldn't have happened.

"Cheshire Cat." A voice spoke and Jade stiffened.

"Deathstroke!" Jade snarled. She should've known. She should've fucking known!

"Move out of the way and I don't kill you." His single eye glared in utter apathy.

"Like hell, I will!" Jade roared taking her sai and charging at the man against which she had no hope of winning. It was never her goal to begin with. Her goal was to delay him just enough so that one of the servants can come in and end this fight.

She shouldn't have bothered.

Deathstroke looked behind her with utter fascination, and spoke, "How are you still standing? H-How are you even breathing?"

Jade heard a growl. It chilled her very spine. She slowly turned around, inch by inch – her sight never leaving Deathstroke for a single moment. She gasped – Damian was... standing. His shirt was soaked in blood and his face pale like an albino but he was still standing.

She was sure that one of his lungs had collapsed or worse his heart was ripped apart. He shouldn't be moving a single finger let alone be on his feet already and ready for a fist fight.

"I hope the money you took was worth it assassin!" Damian grits his teeth while Jade took a step back, "Because you're going to wish that you never met me. I _swear_ on that."

Jade whimpered – Damian didn't seem like a human anymore. His eyes were slits, and his posture was stiff. He was staring at Deathstroke like a God waiting to deliver his punishment.

* * *

Damian was angry. He was god's honest angry; to the point that he didn't even feel the pain anymore. He gripped his fists until his nail dug into his palms. His lips dripped with blood. Whether it was because his lung collapsed or because his canines were digging into his flesh – that remained to be seen.

He almost got Jade killed over his crusade. He was so confident in his invincibility that he never realized that there were other people also involved in this. People who weren't like him.

This assassin shot at Jade because he knew that he would never get him through traditional means. The dangerous part; it worked with fantastic results. If he was a normal human he would've died on the spot and so would've Jade.

"I hope the money you were paid was worth it assassin!" Damian snarled, "Because you're going to wish that you never met me. I _swear_ on that." He meant every word. After he was done with him, the assassin will never forget him. Never. That is if he decided to spare the man's life. He was glad that Deathstroke came to him... it saved him the time to hunt him.

Deathstroke didn't bat a single eye at the threat. He charged – with his sword in one hand and a gun on another. He was fast and precise.

Damian was faster and most precise – bordering on omniscient.

Deathstroke fired his gun. Damian dodged with his nimble movements – not wasting a single iota of strength. A quick jab and the assassin was rid of his firearm with a wince.

They exchanged few more jabs. Deathstroke swung his sword while Damian danced around it like a master ballet. Grace mixed with the savagery of a sabretooth.

The assassin snarled when none of the connected. Damian got into his guard and delivered one solid jab at his opponent's torso.

The force of the blow went through Deathstroke's Armor to crack three ribs. He released a silent scream. Injured but not debilitated – he moved with purpose.

One swing of a sword at his target's head, gritting his teeth through the pain. Damian dodged under it, "Iaijutsu."

Deathstroke snarled, as Damian started to decipher his styles as he dodged his every last swing.

"Iaidō."

Another swing.

"Kumdo."

Damian turns his head just enough to dodge yet another sword thrust by mere inches.

"Kendo."

" _What are you?_ " Deathstroke whispered, never being so outclassed on sheer skill. " _Who are you?_ " He screamed.

He took another swing but this time Damian caught him by his wrist. Deathstroke used his enhanced strength but it was for naught. Damian pressed on until he heard his would-be assassin's wrist snap like a twig.

"Aaaaargh!" Deathstroke screamed. His grip left his sword but Damian didn't relent he still held on to his wrist in a vice grip.

Damian scoffed and lifted his knee and slammed it on the other side of the assassin's torso. Cracking another three ribs. He didn't even hear the scream. He let go of the wrist and let out few more kicks and punches.

Each, either breaking a joint or snapping a bone in two.

It was a massacre. Like a cattle brought to slaughter. Helpless.

Deathstroke, the famous assassin. The one who always got his target no matter how difficult. No matter the place – _was on his knees._ Brought down by a child of mere thirteen with a bullet still lodged in his chest. It was so outrageous that it wasn't even funny.

"Y-You're a monster," Deathstroke spoke, his eyes finally gaining clarity. Like he saw something which should've been obvious from the very start.

Damian snarled, holding his hand out. Deathstroke's sword which was discarded only moments ago flew into his hand. Singing like the instrument of death it was. Screaming even.

Damian swung. He was going to end it. Something inside him screamed to stop. He didn't care. He was going to take the assassin's head off and end his threat forever. This would be the end.

So, then why did he stop? The blade was only inches away from Deathstroke's neck. A little bit more and it would be over. He would never have to worry about this guy anymore. So, why couldn't he do it? Why!?

He heard someone crawl towards him on her belly… he could smell the desperation and fear. It was Ravager. Her single eye glistened. She didn't seem insane or the cold-hearted assassin anymore – just a little girl. "Please, don't." she begged, pulling the end of his pants, desperate, "He's all I've left. Please…"

Damian turned towards Jade – sword still in his hand. Her eyes were wide – pupils dilated and legs shaking like leaves. She was terrified, _Did he look that terrifying?_

Damian felt his stomach crawl with disgust. The kind he would spend years trying to forget. He almost killed a father right in front of his daughter. He shuddered, his self-loathing paralyzing him for a moment.

Damian growled and stabbed the sword into the ground. He grabbed Deathstroke by his neck bringing him closer… the man didn't resist. It would've been hard considering all his limbs were rendered useless. He removed the assassin's mask with a violent tug.

Rose let out a painful whimper.

"Don't ever come back here. Gotham is under my protection." Damian whispered into his ear, "With me, there is only one chance. I am not Batman. Next time there will be no mercy. You fuck with me and I will hunt you to the very end of the world." Damian spat, "Where _can you run where I can't find you?_ "

The hunter has now become the hunted.

He snarled, turning towards Ravager, "Get him out of my sight!"

Damian walked away without sparring a single glance at his beaten opponents. The screaming in his head had subsided but his heart was still in turmoil. He was sure that he lost a part of his soul today here. Yet the night had not ended.

* * *

Carmine Falcone, walked into the very same construction site where he ordered the hit on Damian only hours prior. Each step he took was heavy like lead. Everyone was there. Every last mafia boss who had a stake in Gotham.

He frowned. Most of them were looking a little bit scuffed but otherwise still alive. But all fight out of them has already been beaten away.

He looked around to see seven individuals surrounding them – blocking every exit. Carmine grunted, they had the numbers but they didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell if every last one of them were as strong as the one who got him.

The hopelessness was thick. He didn't blame his fellow colleagues though. Before tonight Gotham was a place where despite the amount of crime there was not a single meta vigilante. But that was the crux of the problem – Damian was not a vigilante. He was mafia. He wanted their business.

This was not a bust but a hostile takeover.

For a moment, Falcone felt regret before he squashed it. All of them knew what they were getting into. They knew what would come for them if they ever failed. Knowing that they chose him as their leader, and he did the best he could with what he had. _He did his best._

His eyes roved over these seven beings. And he came to one single conclusion – none of them were human. Not a single one of them could be – they looked far too inhuman to be considered human. He looked at the men first – They all looked like regal warriors except the one wearing glasses. He looked more like a scientist than anything.

Then the women… Ah, the women. They were so beautiful. He wasn't a stranger to them – he knew beautiful women. In his younger years, he had been with countless of them but none – not a single one of them came close to these three.

If everyone wasn't worried about their life then every last man here would've ogled them unashamedly.

He stiffened when the women in black garment turned towards him. She smiled… her ruby red lips curving in a gentle knowing smile. He shuddered. Feeling both intimidated and aroused at the same time. There was something particularly dangerous about that woman. Enough that he turned his eyes away immediately.

"Is this you handling it, Falcone?"

"For once in your life just shut the fuck up, Bertinelli."

Before Bertinelli could unleash his vitriol, the door opened and the man of the hour walked in with a woman in green garb. Everyone shifted uncomfortably. Carmine stood tall – his back unbending. If he was to die today he will do so with dignity – like the mafioso of the old. He earned that.

* * *

"Damian, what are your terms?" Carmine asked, "That is if you're willing to give any."

The boy didn't answer instead he threw a mask right on the table – startling every last person. An orange mask with a single eye hole. It still had blood on it.

Utter silence. The message was clear. Some gasped while others shriveled in fear. Carmine just shook his head in disappointment. Realizing that he had lost any leverage he previously had.

"You still have a few hours left before my terms expire." Damian replied, his tone was impassive but the threat was clear, "I'm willing to forgive your earlier transgressions if you bend."

"And you think we will just listen to you." Bertinelli snarled, slamming his hands, "That we will just hand over our empire into the hands of a boy who doesn't even have his pubes. Is that what you think!?"

"I am enough of a man to handle every last one of you. As I proved earlier." Damian retorted, "And I'm talking to the man in charge. Not to you."

Bertinelli growled but didn't make any further comments. Suitably humbled. Carmine would've laughed if they were not in such dire situation.

"So, what's your answer, Don Falcone?" asked Damian.

"Are you not willing to negotiate?"

"I already am. Despite the assassin, you sent after me."

"So, you're willing to divide East Gotham with us?" the old don asked, "There is a lot we can achieve together." His gaze moving towards the seven individuals who stood behind Damian like sentries.

"You misunderstand." Damian replied, shaking his head, "I am not negotiating on Gotham. My negotiation only extends to all of your lives. Gotham is and will be mine – in its entirety. There will be no negotiation. There will be no demands."

Falcone's eyes widened in incredulity.

Bertinelli roared and jumped at the boy intending to strangle him. A swipe of the sword and his right arm fell off – cut from his body like an appendix. "Aaaaaargh!" he screamed.

" **If anyone else tries that then it will be their head!"** Kiyohime spoke. More like spat. Her speech so thick and inhuman that nobody understood. But the intent was delivered clearer than ever. No longer looking the silver-haired beauty she was – _but a berserker_. Her slitted eyes only furthered the image.

Bertinelli screamed until his voice was hoarse. Carmine Falcone looked at the display, with equal parts disgust and fear. He looked towards Damian and even the boy seemed surprised by the sudden bout of violence. Even if it was only for a moment.

None of the other mafia bosses dared to move neither did the servants. Kiyohime looked far too bloodthirsty to antagonize. Kiyohime's gaze moved from the mafiosos to her master who looked back with utter impassiveness.

She quietly moved back and took her earlier place behind Damian with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop.

"Fuck!" Jade whispered. Glad that her voice was drowned into the screams of Bertinelli.

"Jade..." Damian whispered.

"Yes?"

"Get this man out of here and see to it that he gets proper medical attention." Damian replied, "His medical bill will be on me."

Jade immediately got to work. Glad that she wasn't in the room with that psycho of a servant who was still glaring at the pitiful form of Bertinelli Family Head.

"Now," Damian replied, "What's your answer, Falcone? You answer for all of the mafias in East Gotham."

"If you're not willing to negotiate or divide what is left of Gotham, then why don't you just kill us?"

There were some murmurs amongst the sitting mafia heads but one look from Damian and they shut themselves up. The entire mafia intimidated by a single boy…

" _Because I'm a man of principles_." Damian replied with a raised eyebrow, "I gave you twenty-four hours to surrender so you shall have it. If you bend in the allotted time you live."

 _Damn his principles!_ Carmine thought gritting his teeth. _Damn my principles._ He sighed. His shoulder slumped, all fight left him. Leaving only the old husk of a man who now only had his life to lose, "And if we don't surrender at the allotted time?"

Damian's eyes turned towards the blood on the floor and then at Carmine and rest of the mafioso, "What do you think?" Every last one of them let out a shudder. Their spine shaking as if the very devil had given them the ultimatum.

"You would spare our lives but leave us on the streets with nothing but the clothes on our back." Falcone snarled.

"And too how many have you done the same?" Damian scoffed, "And you won't be begging in the streets of Gotham. My Gotham has no place for any of you. You all will be gone by the coming morning."

"It will take more than a day for us to transfer all of our businesses…" Carmine replied hating how pitiful he sounded.

"What makes you think that I haven't taken control of them already?" Damian's eyes narrowed, "This is only a professional courtesy."

Carmine Falcone felt all strength leave his legs. His hands scrambled to reach the table so that he could keep his back straight. He looked at Damian for a straight minute, looking for a single feature which would say he was lying.

Carmine Falcone finally sighed, "We never stood a chance, did we?"

* * *

"You are injured." Arturia frowned.

"Was it that obvious?" Damian asked with a smile, "I think I managed to conceal it very well throughout the entire meeting."

"I should've never left your side…" Arturia turned her eyes away.

Damian leaned in, his hands resting on her shoulders, "It wasn't your fault."

"You think I'm not aware of that?" Arturia snapped, her eyes narrowing, "I hate the fact that I was so easily duped by your schemes. I shouldn't have listened to you in the first place and stayed and done my duty in the first place."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think that the assassin would actually manage to hurt me." Damian replied holding back a wince. As pain shot through his body.

"That's what happens when you put your life at risk." Arturia felt no sympathy, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Damian sighed, "I wanted you to concentrate on getting the Maroni's… that was more important than my life."

"Not to me." Arturia hissed, making Damian blush, "If you're going to risk your life Shirou then I want to hear that from you. _Not from some other servant._ " Oh! She still hadn't forgotten about that smug look Semiramis had given her. She now knew that Semiramis was the one in the first place who pilfered the information but her pride had still stung!

"It's already morning," Damian replied.

Arturia glared, "You're trying to avoid the subject!"

"I am not." Damian replied, "I will never hide anything like that from you again."

"Promise?" Arturia squinted her eyes. Acting surprisingly petulant for someone who never losses her kingly demeanor.

"I promise." Damian rolled his eyes and got up from the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Arturia growled, "We just patched you up!"

"I have an important business to attend to."

Arturia sighed in part frustrations and exasperation, realizing that Shirou was just being Shirou. You can kill him but he won't stop his daily routine over it! "What kind of business?" she asked.

"Family."

"Oh…" Arturia sighed in disappointment, wondering what kind of family business could Shirou have.

"You should come," Damian replied, leaning on the door frame.

"I thought it was family business?"

" _You are family, Saber."_

Arturia's cheeks colored, she told herself that it was only the heat. "I-I'm still mad at you."

"I know."

Stupid Shirou!

* * *

It was dawn. Golden rays hit the leaves falling from the blood red oak painting quite the tapestry. The sap from the plants made sure sweet smell permeated every inch of this place. Autumn truly brought the best out of Gotham. Even if the place was but a graveyard.

He always hated coming here. It reminded him of things that could never be. Things that were stolen from him by a gun-toting maniac.

 _It has been years,_ he told himself. But everything he ever did was defined by this… this unspeakable pain… The kind of pain which never leaves just simmers like an infection.

But even knowing the pain it caused him, he would come here whenever something didn't go the way he expected them to.

"Master Bruce, you have spent enough time here." Alfred sniffed, "Anymore and you would be late for the board meeting. You have skipped enough of them as it is in the last two weeks. There's only so much _vacation_ you can indulge in. Any more and they might have a legitimate reason to boot you out of the board."

"Lucius can handle it." Bruce replied, still staring at the two graves in front of him, "He always does."

Alfred sighs, palming his forehead, "You always expect too much from him. There's only so much he can do by his lonesome."

Bruce would've groaned but this byplay between them was nothing new. Nobody knew him better than Alfred. None of the Robins knew his darkness in the way Alfred did. The man had been taking care of him since he was a babe in his diapers.

He heard crisp soil being crushed under the heels of shoes. Without even turning back his instincts kicked in. Before they even reached his location, he knew there were two of them. He knew one of them was a man and another a woman.

He wasn't worried. Not really. It was just his training – impossible to turn off even during the most inopportune times. If anything, he was curious. This part of graveyard exclusively belonged to the Wayne Family. Even the maintenance was done by his own people rather than the ones this place provided.

He raised an eyebrow, they were here – and they weren't what he expected. Both were young. One was but a boy and other was a very young woman not even in her twenties. There was nothing fearsome about them but yet his instincts screamed.

Especially the blonde woman, there was something inhuman about her. Bruce's eyes narrowed and his gaze went towards the boy. He went still.

Emerald eyes, that was the first thing he thought of. _Talia…_ Bruce's mood immediately soured. One of his biggest mistakes if anything. The woman was insane and twisted… but he loved her, almost married her. His taste was always questionable but Talia al Ghul even by those standards was something… One of a kind.

"Oh my, we have some intruders."

The young boy's lips curved in a gentle smile. He looked amused, to say the least.

* * *

"Intruders?" Damian's lips curved in amusement, while the butler raised a single eyebrow, "I'm afraid it's not something that _exciting_. Just well-wishers here."

Damian gently placed the bouquet of flowers on the grave of his grandparents. Grandparents, just thinking about it brought mixed reactions from him. But it was something which he felt he needed to do. They were the first to give everything they had for Gotham and paid for it with their life. And now he was here and he was going to make things better... he felt he needed their blessings.

He closed his eyes as a fresh breeze of wind hit him, making him sigh. His eyes glazed as his gaze roamed the two people who stood beside him.

Damian promised Ra's that he would never turn away from the truth.

And the man standing in front of him was his truth. His maker. His father. They shared blood. Something which the man will never know if he ever had his way.

"Blue Orchids?" asked Bruce.

"They're actually purple."

"Master Bruce," Alfred chastised, "They were your mother's favorite."

Damian smiled at the Butler, "They are my favorite too."

"Who are you?" Bruce finally asked.

"Just one of the many your family helped over the years. Not anyone noteworthy."

He saw his father's smile, but it had an edge to it, "I'm afraid you're a little bit too young to have ever known my parents. They have passed for quite some time."

Damian looked at him. The man who was his father. He was impressed, to say the least. At the least combat wise. Even as he talked to him one of his eyes was always on Saber – like he expected her to attack him any minute. He had damn good instincts – better than even Deathstroke.

Then his eyes turned towards his belt. They were cloaked in some form of illusionary device which belied its true nature. It was a golden belt. The second his eyes gazed through the illusion he wished it hadn't.

Pain. Pain, like he had never known invaded his entire being. Generally, whenever he looked at other people's weapons he would get their memories. While violating in nature, it never hurt him. But this man… his pain was so deep that it infected everything around him. Especially his equipment – the utility belt.

He saw every nasty thing that ever happened to Batman – No, Bruce Wayne. Batman didn't feel pain or regret because there was always a man behind the mask who willingly took the hit – who made the ultimate sacrifice.

There was just _so much_ of it. His every failure was laid bare to Damian. His every regret. Everything. _It was all too much._ But even in this sea of despair, there was one incident which stood out particularly. The loss of his parents…

Abject pity filled his being. This man… his father, he was a broken man. And this was coming from someone… whose view of the world was so distorted that he had his own reality marble. And then there was respect.

There were many things on which he disagreed with but if anything, he respected the man's drive. The single-mindedness was something they shared in common.

He saw Bruce take a step back, he didn't blame him. He managed to hide his pain – it wasn't new to him. But he didn't quite manage to hide his emotions. He turned towards Arturia, who like always stood beside him – stalwart to the very end.

Lying always came difficult to him maybe because he respected truth far too much to lie outright. Hence, most of the time he would just be upfront and don't tell them or be so vague that even an oracle would be impressed.

Damian shook his head, "It was my father, he knew them. Whenever he was in Gotham he would come and visit the grave. So, I thought I should follow on it."

Bruce seemed speechless, "Where are they?"

"Not with me anymore."

That shut Bruce up. "Oh…"

"They haven't forgotten them, you know," Damian replied.

Bruce raised his eyebrow, "Who?"

"The people of Gotham. Look," Damian directed his finger to other bouquets which littered around the late Martha and Thomas Wayne. All written with some sort of good wishes, "Clearly, I am not the only one who comes here."

Both Alfred and Bruce looked surprised, shocked even. They seemed to notice other bouquets of flowers for the very first time. A sense of melancholy took over the graveyard.

"It's harder to notice obvious things when you are in grief," Damian replied.

He saw his father mumble something before the man turned his back to him. "I didn't think people still remembered what my parents did for them. I thought they didn't care…" Damian could've sworn that he saw his father's shoulder shake.

"I like to think people are good… that given a chance they'll surprise you. Given an opportunity, they will rise up above themselves. They only need but an opportunity."

"You're not from around here," Bruce replied. It wasn't a question but rather a statement.

Damian smiled, "Everybody seems to say that to me. But I am from here actually… just have been away for some time."

"So, what do you intend to do now that you're here, young man?" Alfred asked, his voice still thick with emotion.

"I intend to stay." Damian replied, crossing his arms and tilting his head in a thoughtful look, "And give back to the city which has given a lot to me. _I think_ _that's what my father would want._ "

It seemed to visibly shake both Alfred and Bruce to their very core. Damian didn't bother to spend any more time and he simply decided to walk away.

Saber gave them a bow and followed him.

* * *

Alfred stared with an emotion he couldn't quite decipher, so he decided for controlled impassiveness. Something he perfected over the years thanks to the dangerous antics of Bruce. "What a peculiar young man?"

"Did you happen to catch his name?" asked Bruce.

"I am afraid that he never saw the need to reveal his name?"

Alfred glanced at the man who was like a son to him in everything but name… And he looked better than he ever had in years. Peaceful even. He seemed to stare at the space where the boy stood only moments ago.

"I think that's not the last we've seen of him."

"I think so too."

Alfred sighed knowing what was coming.

 _Give back to the city which has given a lot to me._ It was too close to both of their hearts to just leave alone. That sentiment lead to the death of both Martha and Thomas Wayne. It was also what created Batman. It was the last thing Thomas Wayne said in his will before everything they owned was turned over to Bruce.

"Must you do this?" Alfred asked.

Bruce didn't answer. He was back to being Batman again.

* * *

A man took a deep breath as he roamed through his estate for the very last time. His hands caressed the stones of his home. A home which he built by his own hands – brick by brick. Now, it wasn't his anymore. Taken forcefully away from him like he had done to many in his heyday.

It was a perfect ending as far as he considered. Ironic even.

He sighed. A deep tired sigh. He went into his study – his steps heavy as lead and his longing even thicker. His seventy plus year age hung like boulders on his shoulders. He was hunching… he noticed. It was the posture of a defeated man. Something he realized he has never done before. Not before today.

After all, he had been through… he never bends. Not to anyone. Ever.

It was all because of the boy, he told himself. But Damian wasn't one to blame. It was simply the way of their world. The way of the mafia. They fought and the boy was simply stronger.

Now only one thing remained to end his legacy. Something the boy refused to do even after all he put him through. Maybe that was his principles.

He sat on his chair and then looked out of the window. The sun was coming up… the time the boy gave us was over. Every last one of his colleagues had already left Gotham leaving everything they owned behind. Their pride discarded for their life.

He wasn't like them. His pride was everything. If the boy won't do it then he will.

He pulled a revolver from his desk and jabbed it in his mouth.

BANG!

Carmine Falcone was no more. He died as he lived. A mafioso to the very end.

 **A/N Well, this is the last chapter of this arc. Now, I will be working on Providence. I will rewrite the entire thing from the ground up for that fic. It wasn't like there was anything significant written only 10000 words** **for that fic. Thanks, review, follow or whatever. :)**


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